As i sat in Mimi's Café, waiting for Todd, the former potential Mr. Sonja 2003-2004, I was struck by the fact that we used to call it "our" place. I chuckled at the thought. Especially since, as my eyes scanned the room, I saw the table that Steven and I used to sit at when it was "our" place and the breakfast bar area where I sat with Troy when it was "our" place. Perhaps, I thought, I should just start calling it "the place where relationships go to die," because I had yet to share the oh-so-special breakfast eatery with anyone who lasted longer than the standard 90-day dating period.
My stomach was in knots as I waited for the infamous Todd to show up. When he called me a few days before, saying that he wanted to see me face to face because, "I have something to say that I should have said a long time ago," he sounded pretty serious. Being that we hadn't exactly parted as friends, I wasn't entirely sure what he suddenly had the need to purge. I was even less sure why I needed to hear it. Wait a minute, stop the presses, that isn't exactly true. My gut was telling me that Todd was going to tell me he wanted me back and quite frankly, I was excited at the prospect. I was driven by pure ego. It was a thrill to think that someone I loved once upon a time had a change of heart. That through his loss he had finally come to realize that he does love me. Then my life would be simple again.
Jay and I have been having some "growing pains," sure, don't all couples? But ours seemed so serious. Insurmountable. We're talking life-changing choices. But in any relationship, didn't life-changing choices have to be made if you were shooting for the whole enchilada? Inevitably, someone would have to concede if it were going to work, someone would have to make a move, so that the couple could be together.
And that someone was not going to be me. How could I even consider leaving Las Vegas? It is the only home I've ever known; the only home my children have ever known. Their lives are here, their friends, their schools, oh, and let's not forget, their father! I couldn't take them away from here. It makes absolutely no sense to even consider carrying on with a man like Jay who lives so far away. I was smart to agree to meet Todd. He's a local guy. And, heck, I loved him before, right? I could love him again. Then everything would be just fine.
As I sat there, waiting for my lost love to arrive, I was struck with full force by my intentions: I was trying hard to lose the love I had found. I have complained in vain that all the men I've picked throughout the years have been completely unable to commit. Maybe that's why I picked them in the first place. But as I sat there, glancing over my shoulder at the tables in the restaurant that held memories of my yesterdays, about to make choices that could ruin my tomorrows, something else struck me equally as hard: reality.
I am the one who is afraid to commit. I am terrified of failing ... again. If I let myself commit, gave myself completely to someone, agreed to stick to it through thick and thin, and it ended in another divorce, I would die. So instead, when the going got tough, I got the hell out! Or I'd push so hard and be so difficult that eventually, my partner would have no other choice, if only to save his own sanity, but to leave me, as I cry that all men are selfish bastards—when in reality, I am the selfish one.
I have said over and over again that all I want is to love and be loved. To find Mr. Sonja 2004–20?? And yet, every time I get close, my actions show otherwise. And, love, after all, is action, isn't it? Love is so much more than just saying the words, "I love you."
In the midst of my epiphany, Todd showed up. He was all smiles as he slid into the chair beside me at "our" table. He wasted no time as he started with, "I realize now what a huge mistake I made." He continued on with things like, "I'm willing to do whatever it takes." Words. Empty words that he's said a half a dozen times before, never sticking around long enough to back them up.
Then there's Jay, who has done nothing but continually show me that he loves me.
He takes out the trash without being asked. He makes sure there's a glass of water on the night table every night before we go to sleep in case I wake up thirsty. He plugs in my cell phone because he knows I'll forget. He sends me cards for no reason. He makes me take my vitamins. He assists in the assembly of my children's school projects. He sits through mushy chick flicks. He rubs my ugly feet at the end of a long day. And when he says, "I love you," I know he does, not because of the words, but because of his actions. Love is an action word. And as I sat across the table from the infamous Todd, I knew what I wanted to do.
I wanted to give my heart completely to Jay, the man who truly loves me. I wanted to commit to going forward. I wanted to stop living in fear. I wanted to make sure I never brought Jay to Mimi's for breakfast.
Sonja is a writer who covers the ins and outs of relationships. Or is it the ups and downs?