You've Got Mail

Today I got nostalgic, in an effort to distract myself from ticking the days off on my calendar. When I get nostalgic, I look through old emails from past friends and boyfriends. Yes, I keep them. It's the only thing I have left from my past that I keep- no letters or pictures, no gifts or clothing. Paul has never asked me to remove anything, and I don't keep them to think of what could have been. I keep them to remember myself of old. They help me fill in missing pieces, and give me dates to recollect. I'm a very sentimental person, and reading these old emails just make me think of the days that were spent with that person, and how much I've changed since then.

In my collection (so to speak) I've been broken up with, propositioned, loved, missed and berated. I've been left for other women, I've been told that I'll be notified should the person's current relationship fall through, and dropped from a best friend's wedding. Oddly enough, I look back at these past conversations and shake my head or smile. What things I agreed to, what situations I tolerated for years upon years. In that one email box I have three long distance relationships carried out, with two of them ended via email. What kind of person would end a relationship through email? The same person who will tell you that despite waiting four years to date you, after one month WITH you he has found someone new. It's not you, he says, it's me. Actually, since you waited for all those years to be with me, once you got the "real" me, you bolted. So me thinks it actually WAS me.

I wonder, knowing what I know now about myself, what would I do differently? Would I have told that one guy No? No I won't wait for you while you try to see who else is out there. No, I don't mind waiting for you to get back from Iraq- just please come home safely- what's that? You met a new girl? Ha! Isn't that just spit on your neck kick you in the crotch fantastic? It's amazing to me how little spine I had back then.

As I peruse the emails by name, I see witty comebacks from myself, and the few times I FINALLY got to say what I thought. Sure, it was post-breakup and they had moved on by then, but I GOT THE LAST WORD. Perhaps it's because of that, or maybe it's because I'm this person I am now because of the few morons I dated- but I wouldn't change a thing. I like where I am now. I love my life, and my husband. If I had stayed with that Marine, or that guy I completely lied to about my race (He thought I was Armenian, like he was), or the 13 years older than me guy with a kid, where would I be? I could be in San Diego, or Santa Rosa. I could have a step-son, or in-laws who had no idea I was in fact, Mexican. I could have been living on a base somewhere, biting my nails waiting for my husband to come home. Or, I could have been divorced and heartbroken. Instead, I'm a block away from my dad, mere minutes away from family- with a husband who loves me and a dachshund who gets excited whenever I come home.

Despite this TTC ordeal, I'm pretty lucky I ended up where I did. I only wish I had some email record of this.