“In a very short time. This moment. Right here. Right now. Will be a long time ago.”
Since our break up, Michelle and I had always kept in touch. We were better friends than lovers.
We stayed friends long beyond our breakup. There was a time when Michelle was my best friend.
Michelle moved on. Relocated to California to marry her high school sweetheart, Dave.
I’ve been thinking about her lately. Simply because she stopped texting me a few months ago after nearly 4 years of continued contact.
An acquaintance who is a psychologist told me the only reason she kept in touch with me was because of my value, and if her marriage failed she’d have something to come back to.
I get that. It makes sense.
I’d never do that because I would never need to. But that tells me that her footing wasn’t quite secured when she embraced her current endeavor.
But it’s been 4 years and by the time you read this, it’ll be 6.
When I met Michelle, my daughter Lorelei was 12 years old. She’s now going to be 22 and when you read this, she’ll be a 23-year-old woman. Just 4 years short of how old Michelle was when I met her.
If you’d like, go back and read the Michelle series. It’s the first relationship series I had ever written when I began Phicklephilly so long ago.
I wish I had started writing it while we were still together. The tales of our time together would have been so much more vivid and wild.
And Michelle may have had a voice in that journey instead of only me telling the history of our relationship. The Michelle series was my best effort at the time to at least create a “Greatest Hits” album of what it was like for us during that time. A couple of lost souls who came together at the Philadelphia Inquirer (Philly.com)
Two people who fell in love.
If you read the Michelle saga, it’s a fun-filled and heartbreaking journey that I’ll never forget. I’ll always love her and she’s always welcome at our table at Christmas.
Michelle got married and kept her friendship with me a secret from her husband for many years.
I’ve been ghosted.
I’m fine with that because I’m old and wise enough to understand. I want nothing from Michelle. My work with her is done and has been for many years.
My work was complete before she left me.
I wasn’t even sad the weekend she left me. My friend Duncan came to visit and I didn’t even have a bed for him to sleep in because she had just taken it.
Nothing mattered because I knew we were still friends and that had always been the best part of our relationship.
“When my time with you is over at the end of the day, I wish I could start all over and do it again.”
She used to say that all of the time. I never felt the same way. I was happy to wrap myself up in the memory of the day and press it into a memory book in my mind.
I was too tired after our adventures to want to do it again. The elegant memory was burned into my mind forever.
In the last year she had been in touch. If I were her husband, and as insecure as he is I would never want my wife texting and giggling with her ex-boyfriend. The very man who clipped her from him when he was trying to get back together with her when we first met.
I’m very busy in my life here in Philadelphia. A dear friend of mine said something the other day; “People like busy people.”
They do. Busy people are exciting and industrious. We are inaccessible for a reason.
We don’t retreat from you all. We’re just busy building things.
All of my hookups are gone. (Free drinks!) As they should be. These boys and girls have grown up and moved on to better jobs. They’re beverage managers, husbands and wives now, and are no longer behind the stick to give me oceans of chardonnay for $5 and a $25 tip for me and my girls. I’ve also cleaned the cache of the last bit of toxic detritus from my life for good.
I’ve reached a point in my life that is finite.
I’m running out of time.
No longer leashed to corporate might. I work where I want and put in a honest day’s labor and love it. I deliver product that makes my clients happy immediately. It’s a simple model and the people are nice. I dig my co-workers and we have a good time.
The cash is rolling in and my broker is happy.
Things are good.
My life has never been so simple and so happy. It just seems too easy. I guess when you struggle so long you can’t believe that if you finally do what you want to do and build your on life… it kind of works.
I used to be happy when my daughter wasn’t here knowing I could have adult fun, but now I love when she’s here because that’s my only bloodline and I love her.
Lorelei has turned out so great and is always improving. I’m so proud of her and am blessed that she lives here with me and wants to be here.
But as usual…I digress.
Where is Michelle?
Has she finally vanished forever?
I think so.
This could be it.
I’m fine with it.
My work is done.
I think we both know that.
Michelle had some health problems and apparently in the last few years she’s cured them all.
I couldn’t be happier for her.
To live with a disability your entire life is horrible. But after all of this time, Michelle has finally been able to get ahead of all of that and feels better than ever.
That would have never happened had she stayed with me.
I would have helped and treated her, but the lifestyle would have destroyed her.
As fun as it was, the lifestyle was destroying her when we were together.
Our relationship as fun as it was had a finite end that was predetermined before we ever met at the Inquirer.
I knew that, but unfortunately Michelle didn’t.
That’s why I didn’t have the horrible dopamine withdrawal when she left.
It was over and we remained friends. That was the best part of our relationship.
We always had so much fun.
But I haven’t heard from her in a long time, so I think Michelle is finally gone.
Which seems odd now, because she’s always been here.
I spoke with one of my female friends in regard to this subject.
“Dude. You’re her ex and she’s still texting you?” Think of her husband. Don’t be a dick. Cut her loose!”
I don’t want to be the secret in Michelle’s life anymore. That’s not fair to Dave. It’s not cool for her ex-boyfriend to still chat with his lovely wife.
No one wants that.
So I think it’s finally over. Michelle has moved to Cali, married, they have their careers, the life and their dreams.
Off your both go.
I wish you well, Michelle.
P.S. I’m a little bit if a bitter bitch in that post, but it was written two years ago, and that’s long gone now. But it is what it is, and it’s been scheduled, so here it is. I try to keep it real here at Phicklephilly.
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