June 2002

The summer before I married R.

I was in my car, heading over to Linens N Things to update my bridal registry, sunroof open, windows rolled down, radio blasting. A hot, sticky evening. I was wearing track shorts and an old t-shirt, my hair pulled up in a ponytail. Not a speck of makeup on my face. I think I had just come from the gym.

For once, I decided to take the shortcut to the store, which took me around the back of the shopping center where the local computer school was. I don’t know why I decided to go that way that night; I usually went into the shopping center from the front entrance.

I slowly drove through the rear parking lot, and there he was.

David. Standing outside the glass doors of the computer school, leaning against a car, smoking a cigarette. I hadn’t seen him for months at that point; maybe even for a year, or longer. I recalled then that he’d told me he was taking a computer programming course at the school several months ago.

I felt panicky. I wasn’t looking my best and didn’t want him to see me. Although I told myself that I shouldn’t care, especially since my wedding was only two months away, a small voice in the back of my mind contradicted me. But before I could decide my next move, David lifted his head and his gaze fell upon me, as quickly and deliberately as if I’d yelled his name out my window. His left arm rose in greeting. There was no way around him now; I’d have to pull over and say hello.

I parked my car next to the one he’d been leaning against and smiled at him, hoping he couldn’t see my anxiety, my insides quivering. Small talk was never one of my strong points, and David was such an intense person that I’d always found it difficult to conduct idle chitchat with him.

He pointed out his new car to me. I’d never seen it before, so he asked me to sit down in the passenger seat and check it out. It was nice; a black Nissan Maxima with tinted windows and an incredibly loud sound system. He proudly showed me all its bells and whistles, and I responded in what I'd hoped was an appropriately impressed manner.

He looked good. Really good...tall and tanned and handsome. And healthy, like he’d been clean for a while, which relieved me. He was still living with Marsha, whom he’d met right around the time he and I had broken up, and he said that things were good between them. I felt a vicious, uncharacteristic stab of jealousy in my chest as he talked. She must be really special to him...he’s clean, going to school, working full-time, owns a car. Why couldn’t he have gotten his shit together before, when we were still together? He must not have loved me that much.

I pushed the thoughts out of my mind and instead tried to focus on what he was telling me. He mentioned that he had just started taking Paxil a few months earlier. He had been depressed, he said, and it was helping him a lot, though he told me offhandedly that it was killing his sex drive.

Then he asked me about the wedding planning, but I could tell that he wasn’t really listening when I answered. He had a faraway look in his eyes. It was such an awkward moment.

We chatted for only a few minutes, though it felt inexorably long to me. I had been hoping that I’d never see him again. It was just too hard for me to handle all the emotions that bubbled up within me whenever I saw him. Talking to him on the phone was one thing; I could somehow manage to keep my distance then. But when he was right next to me, looking in my eyes and laughing and smiling at me, I felt shaky and lightheaded and weak.

He took one last drag on his Newport and tossed it out the open window, telling me he had to get back into class; he’d only been outside to catch a quick smoke on his break. I started to pull on the door release handle, but he flew around to the passenger side of his car and held the door open for me as I climbed out.

Then he hugged me. I’d figured that he’d give me a quick squeeze—the tension between us for the past few minutes had been so palpable it was almost embarrassing—so I was dumbfounded when he held me against his chest for much longer than necessary. It sounds cliché, but he held onto me for so long that I thought he’d never let me go. I finally pulled away from him and reminded him that he was going to be late getting back to his class. He smiled at me, the corners of his mouth going down instead of up, then kissed the top of my head and backed away.

I watched him enter the building and disappear around the corner in the lobby, then I collapsed into the driver’s seat of my car and sat there, staring at the steering wheel, for a long time.