What ifs and Band-Aids

Ok, this is totally unplanned. I originally had a nice, juicy, music-inspired blog itching to stream its way onto my computer screen. But something else came up, inspired by a dream I had last night involving a certain former boyfriend who I will reference from here on out as "George." Not because George is his name, but because I've always chuckled a little bit on the inside whenever I met someone named George. It's just a funny name.

Disclaimer aside, George was the one guy I couldn't shake off --- even years after our tumultuous relationship. It was pretty much the intensity of our relationship combined with a lack of real closure. So, I took my butt on down to Texas a while back to finally put some closure on the whole thing. Since then, the culmination of reading journal entries from the last five years or so, reflecting on phone conversations with George from the last three years or so, and seeing him in Texas has led me to a bunch of realizations...the most important of which, is closure.

I'm not sure how big of an issue it ever was for him, but all the "what ifs" killed me whenever I thought about George, and the direction our relationship could have taken. Seriously. The complicating factor was, he had the habit of dropping off the face of the earth, only to reappear months/years later. And honestly, every time he disappeared without a goodbye when things were “good,” he left this open wound (figuratively speaking, of course) that I eventually stuck a Band-Aid on. And then every time he reappeared, the Band-Aid was ripped off. Because I hadn't (and still haven't) ever met anyone like George. Ev-ah. And though he had his faults, (maybe more than the average Joe, actually), it's easy to forget someone's faults when the rest of them is just that stinkin' cool. And I'd push the thought of George to the back of my mind, along with the reminder that he always treated the people in his life as “flavors of the week.” Then, when he resurfaced, I'd get all excited and nervous and fluttery inside, all over again. I know --- ridiculous, right? But it still happened, like clockwork.

Anyhow, flash forward to actually *seeing* George years later. I was excited. I was nervous. And most of all, seeing him during my trip was something I *had* to do. Because I had to know. Did I feel like this after so long because this guy was actually The One who had slipped out of my life, or just because there was never any closure?

So, we didn't vomit at the sight of each other. We didn't even annoy each other so much that we never spoke again. We had, unsurprisingly, a very pleasant evening between two friends who "get" each other. He was still the same George. A little older, a little more wiser/pessimistic --- but ultimately, the same. And looking at him across the table, yes, I was still attracted to him. He's good-looking, magnetic, and funny as hell. And had there been no significant others involved at the time, we may have even dated again at some point. But, in seeing him that weekend, I was finally able to get rid of all those "what ifs."

Because though he was the same George that used to make me feel like I was on top of the world, I realized there are things about him that will never change. He is unstable and unpredictable --- qualities he and I both share. Ultimately, though these qualities make us exciting individuals to have around, we need folks like our significant others to ground us. To balance out the dreamer/irrational-being in us both. Could that balance be boring? Yes, definitely. Could it be healthier that just floating along, out of control? Yes indeedy!

I realized there's a little portion of me that will always love George, because of what we shared and what I learned during the process. But it's not unlike the same love I have for my other friends that, steadfastedly, whether or not we talk for years, I will always be there for, and vice versa.

Anyhow...I actually sent a letter to George sharing all this. I wanted him to know what was up, and where I was coming from. That way, the next time he pops into my life to say hello, he knows there's no Band-Aid being ripped off. That he is free to call me just to shoot the shit, or even holler just to ask for relationship advice. I'm not gonna get all butt-hurt because he's got someone in his life keeping him grounded. Instead, I'm gonna give him some damn good advice. ;) And the coolest part is, since we are so similar, there are times when we will talk I’ll realize something about myself just because of something he brings up. So, it's a mutually beneficial friendship.

My point is this: The flutters are gone, but George still cracks me up. And I can live with that.

I challenge all of you to consider any unfinished business with folks you care about. Take matters into your own hands, evaluate the situation, and rip the damn Band-Aid off on your own terms. The freedom you'll feel when finally Band-Aid-less can’t be matched.