A lifetime ago, I chose between two potentially good men. Not only did I choose between two very different men, it was also a choice of where I was to live, what language would be predominate in my home (if the relationship evolved into marriage) and the trajectory my life would take in the future.
Almost thirty years later, I see that decision as life changing for I stayed with the man I chose, married and raised a family with him for more than twenty years. I do not regret my decision for I have two great kids with him and even though the marriage didn’t last and I am divorced, I am at peace.
The other day though, I was thinking about that fateful time I was at a crossroads and I had to choose. Sadly, I bid a fond adieu to one man and embraced the other. I wasn’t ready to change my life completely and be totally out of my element, always the foreigner in his land. To this day, I cannot tell you that if I had chosen differently, would the relationship with him have lasted or evolved into marriage eventually. The road not taken is never certain.
But now that I’m divorced, I wonder about that road not taken. I stand in peace with my choice. I believe it was right for me at the time for so many different, private reasons. But I wonder, what if?
Recently, the man I did not choose, reached out to me. From the grapevine, he learned that I am divorced. We have communicated a bit, tentatively sharing what’s gone on in our lives since that fateful choice I made and it’s bringing up all sorts of memories for me. The way we were, the laughter, the love and the time spent idyllically together. Of course, it remains a mystery whether we would have stayed together if I had chosen him, but as I sit here, it’s soothing to me to go down memory lane.
I wonder where this may lead – whether it is simply a part of the healing process or the romantic beginnings of a reunited love after decades of separation. I am unsure and I am going with the flow as it unfolds. We were so much younger back then and our relationship was boundless because we weren’t burdened by responsibilities. We were young, in love and enjoyed each other’s company. I’ve forgotten the painful parts and only remember the good which is dangerous. I am a different person now, but still very much the same. His reaching out reminded me of that girl who loved life, who wasn’t afraid and who lived in possibility. I was authentically me back then. Perhaps his reaching out is to reignite that authentic me who’s been dormant for so long. It certainly feels that way at this moment. But my question is – Does he want more? Do I want more? Only time will tell.
Have you ever reunited with a lost love? How did it turn out?