A few weeks ago, it occurred to me that February 20 would mark my 37th birthday. I was going to be 37. Thirty-seven. Holy mother of God! How did I get here, and more importantly, how did I get here alone?
Feeling the need for some serious spiritual centeredness, I took a trip to San Francisco for the annual West Coast Yoga Journal Conference. The way I saw it, the man I was dating at the time, Ian, was out of town for 10 days, and it would do me some good to go away and spend some quality time getting to know myself a little better. I figured three days of two- to three-hour classes like "Back Bending Without Pain" and "Flying, Floating and Hand Standing" would be just what the doctor ordered to take my mind off of the impending doom of my rapidly approaching birthday.
Here's what I learned: It is virtually impossible to back-bend for two and a half hours without pain. On the upside, I am literally inches away from being able to kiss my own ass. Needless to say, against my better judgment, I needed some morphine after my day but decided to settle for a glass of red wine instead.
So there I was at The Redwood Room in the fabulous Clift Hotel in the most romantic city in the world, trying desperately to get the attention of the bartender, who I'm sure would have paid attention if I were a man. And I was pondering the state of my life. I was smiling inwardly as well as outwardly as I looked around the crowded lounge. I was feeling so happy and content not to be like so many of the people around me looking for someone to "hook up" with.
No, I was involved, or almost involved, anyway. I was starting a new relationship with someone wonderful. We seemed perfect for each other, and I felt sure that as soon as we were both back in Las Vegas, I was going to close the deal with Ian. That we were going to make mad, passionate love and everything was going to be perfect. I was so looking forward to it, but more than that, I was just thrilled to be in a bar and NOT looking for Mr. Right.
I finally got my drink and was trying not to spill as I maneuvered my way through the crowd when all of the sudden KA-POW! I stopped dead in my tracks, unable to take another step. About 15 feet away, through a surge of people, I saw him. He was just standing there, looking me right in the eye and smiling the most amazing smile I've ever seen. Stylish. Classy. Sexy. At that moment it was as if an electrical current had run through my entire body. He walked toward me, took my hand and said, "Thomas".
"Sonja," I said numbly.
From that moment on he never left my side. I met all of his incredible friends, and we talked and laughed and danced the night away. He was beautiful. Not just on the outside—he shone from within. He was so sincere and funny and thoughtful. The perfect gentleman.
At the end of the night, when it dawned on me that I had to wake up bright and early for yet another day of self-abuse—I mean meditation and self-realization—he saw me back to my hotel in a limo. He hugged me goodbye, and as he did, I whispered in his ear, "I miss you already." Corny, I know, but it just sort of slipped out. He took my face in his hands, gently kissed my forehead and asked, "Did you really think you wouldn't be seeing me again soon?" My heart skipped a beat as I floated to my hotel room.
I know, I know. Ian. Rationalizations are more important than sex—have you ever gotten through the day without one good rationalization? Mine was this: Ian and I had been dating for a month, we weren't sleeping together, and we weren't in an exclusive relationship. Not to mention that Valentine's Day was only one week away and Ian hadn't even asked me to dinner. Besides, I reasoned, Thomas lives in San Francisco, and I'd probably never see him again anyway. I chalked it up to one night of pure good luck. I'd met a wonderful and charming man and I had an incredible evening. End of story.
After my last yoga class, I checked my messages. "Hello, beautiful, it's Thomas. I hope this isn't too forward, but I was wondering if I could give you and your friends a ride to the airport tonight. I'd really love to see you again before you leave."
Oh. My. God.
When he arrived in the hotel lobby, my best girlfriend and yoga partner, Sasha, elbowed me. "He's cute," she whispered, "really cute." My stomach was flippity-flopping the entire way to the airport. He was everything. Funny, outgoing, friendly, quick-witted and stinkin' hot. Even Sasha's husband commented on what a great guy he was.
When we pulled up to the airport, we unloaded our bags and Thomas hugged both of my best friends. He hugged them. I love huggers. As they went in to check the bags, Thomas put his arms around me. We gently rocked back and forth without saying a word. All I knew for sure was that I desperately wanted to see this man again. And, because I am a hopeless romantic, I decided that that was exactly what I planned to do. I took off my diamond heart shaped pendant, my most prized possession, and placed it in his hand. "Do me a favor?" I asked.
"Anything," he said.
"Keep this until I see you again." With that, I kissed him with all the passion that was pent up inside of me. See what happens to a woman who is at the peak of her sexual prime but isn't having sex? Ay carumba!
As the plane took off, and I could see the lights of the city below me, I was anxious, excited and more than a bit confused. Maybe when I got home, back to Ian, I would forget all about Thomas. Like I seemed to forget all about Ian when I was with Thomas. After all, I thought, absence will either make the heart grow fonder, or it will just be another case of out of sight, out of mind.
The only thing I knew for sure as I looked out the window of the plane was that I had just left my heart in San Francisco.