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I made Valentineâ€™s Day into a purple romance.
"I still don't think it's a good idea, but I'm going to go. I am not sure I can move forward until I do."
"I know," he smirked.
My mom lived a lot closer to my ex-best friend than I did, and I took advantage of this fact by staying with her.
"Where're the boys?" She asked.
"I left them home," I replied with my usual cheery smile. The first day, I hung out with my mom.
The second day, I stalked the neighborhood where I had once lived. My friend's mom still lived there, and she had indicated in her letter that he was staying with her for a bit. I told myself that I would be satisfied if I could just see him.
No seriously, I would be fine with that. I would know he was alive, and maybe I could see him smile. That would be enough for me.
No such luck! I saw her leave at one point, but there was no indication if he was even there. I sat in my car -- parked in front of a house far enough away that it didn't seem like I was casing his place -- and contemplated knocking on the door.
Maybe I could call! I still had his mom's number -- memorized, heh heh. If I called, I would know if he was home.
I stared at my cell phone. Dial it! I ordered myself, just dial the damn number! My hands shook.
See, the problem was that I already knew that he didn't want to talk to me. I knew that he used to avoid me. What if my showing up unannounced -- or calling -- ruined his whole day? He probably was grateful that I had stopped sending him a card every year on his birthday.
He probably was relieved that I had seemingly forgotten about him...
After a thought like that, there was no way anyone would be able to call much less knock on his door. I chickened out, and drove back to my mom's. It was probably for the best anyway, much longer, and I bet the cops would arrive to see why I was loitering suspiciously.
The next day, I went to an entirely huge mall, and simply walked from one end to the other. I don't think I actually saw any of the many things for sale. I may have grabbed a bite to eat at some point, who knows?
That night, my mom watched me with a worried frown knitting her brow. "Did you and your husband have a fight?" She finally asked.
"No," I replied in confused honesty. While my husband and I did fight from time to time, never once have we fought so bad that either of us felt the need to leave for a few days. I wondered what would give my mom the impression that we had?
The next day, I drove around the city aimlessly until I found myself parked a few houses down from my friend's. I suppose that was inevitable. After all, the whole reason I was freeloading at my mom's house was to summon up the courage to go see him, but... nothing had changed.
Perhaps I should have stopped off at a liquor store and bought some liquid courage. I was a super giggly and fun drunk, and it might help me throw my hesitation to the wind and just go for it. Except, I merely wanted the courage to say hi; I didn't want the inebriated maljudgement of overly flirtiness. (I told you I was a fun drunk, right?)
I took a deep breath, and held it. I continued to hold it, and then held it some more. I started to see spots, and feel a bit woozy. I decided that it was definitely time to start breathing again, but I couldn't remember how! I banged on my chest, and opened my mouth. Breathe, damn it!
Finally, I gasped in some air, and panted for a few moments until I stopped feeling like I was going to die. To hell with this! I needed some divine guidance.
I crawled from the driver's seat to the backseat -- which I had folded down to make a good, flat, clear spot to sit. I folded my legs into lotus pose, and set my upturned hands on my knees. I inhaled purposefully, and then exhaled to the count of seven.
Seven repetitions of this had me ready to meditate. I mentally walked into a small clearing, and saw a circle of rocks surrounding a small Zen garden. Looking around, I saw that there was nothing else, and so I sat on the large rock in the garden.