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  • Writer's picturechristaleigh

Dating You

I told you once that I wanted you to leave me, that it was the best thing you could possibly do for yourself. You packed up your car and said goodbye to your kids and I swore I would never let you know how much I hated the distance between us. I told you I’d made up my mind, put my wedding ring in a box, wondered how long I’d be able to afford the house on my own. Instead of begging me to change my mind, or arguing with me, or angling for something else, you simply said that you weren’t going stay so far away from your kids, and... okay.

Maybe you knew me better than I knew myself. Maybe you gave me too much credit.

But we went out to dinner that night to discuss how we would handle the divorce, and I told you I just needed a new beginning. That I had, in fact, missed you. Maybe we could date each other again, maybe you wouldn’t even like the person I’d become, maybe we’d find we had nothing in common anymore. Maybe we’d see what it was like to be friends to each other. Maybe we’d fall in love again.

You were my date to the corporate kickoff party that year, and you shined in a way I’d never seven before. You were so outgoing, so easy with meeting new people... I’d been so focused on how different I’d become that I hadn’t given you any credit for growing on your own.

That night we shared a table with great people, we had great conversations, we drank a few drinks... you brought me onto the dance floor and we tried out the things we learned months earlier, admittedly not ready for So You Think You Can Dance. And there was this digital photo booth...

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