I had plans. Big plans. I’d set my heart at the perfect temperature to keep it frozen. I was an independent woman, more than capable of leading a fulfilling life without a long-term romantic companion.
Then some sexy, tattooed, bearded JERK showed up and set my soul on fire. He made me laugh until my cheeks hurt. He pushed my buttons. He made me feel vulnerable when I’d worked so damn hard to carefully construct those walls. He made me want to punch him in the face... and then kiss it to make it all better.
What I’m saying is, Chase ruined everything.
At least, he ruined life as I knew It.
I was coming out of a thirteen-year relationship. In no way was I in a place where I was ready to commit to another person when I started spending time with Chase. And just to be clear, he was adamant that he didn’t want to date me either. He didn’t want to be my rebound, he said, and he didn’t want to screw up our friendship by adding certain benefits into the mix (pun intended).
Here’s the problem. Once you taste something like fresh hot pizza, it’s hard to go back to eating cold pasta from a can. If you have a real Dr. Pepper, Mr. Pibb can go fuck himself. Try as you might, plain yogurt doesn’t have the same effect as cookie dough ice cream.
I dated a lot of people. I kept myself busy with my kids and with working. I had a good life.
But I could not get that man out of my head. I couldn’t see a funny meme without wanting to send it to him. I couldn’t celebrate a holiday without wondering what he was doing. I was obsessed with checking his Snapchat and IG stories, but also I wanted to puke if I saw another female with him.
Food didn’t taste as good anymore, and alcohol turned me into a pathetic sap who couldn’t resist texting him. It didn’t matter who asked me out or who I spent my free time with or whether I was at the beach or an upscale restaurant on a date or laughing in the break room with my coworkers or binging Netflix or going on a hike or trying to fall asleep.
I was lovesick, emphasis on the sick. You know how things taste weird and bland when you have a cold? Yeah, that’s what Chase did to my life.
I was alive, but I was not at my full potential. I could tell something was off.
That’s the magic Chase possesses over me. (What an asshole.) His personality complements my personality, his life goals line up with mine. He challenges me, he calls me on my bullshit (UGH), he expects the best version of me, he coaxes me out of my comfort zone. But he’s also my safety net, my source of security and comfort, my motivator, my life coach, my partner in crime and in passion.
I could survive without him.
But I can’t go to the grocery store without remembering the time he laid down in the patch of grass in the parking lot or the time he pushed me around in a shopping cart. I can’t read my kids a bedtime story without thinking about how much better he is at the voices. I drink wine and I remember the time he recreated prom just for me. I look at our baby and I see Chase’s face.
I’m doomed. What a fucking jerk, to come into my life like that, to make everything bland and boring in comparison.
Have a great birthday, Chase. I HOPE YOU‘RE HAPPY