It was the Saturday morning after my 60th birthday soiree and I was basking in the warm glow of a huge accomplishment. I had made it through the day sans nervous breakdown!
Well, officially my big DAY would be tomorrow, Sunday, but curling up in my cozy, super hip Petite L’Ermitage hotel room I felt very much on the right side of well adjusted. I lovingly went over the details of my celebration; the heartfelt speeches, my perfectly curated outfit, and the copious amount of Tequila shots I might have consumed with some lovely Russian Hookers around the rooftop pool. I think they paid?
It was a spectacular evening from start to finish. Perfect really and that became the problem. When you are facing a huge milestone ( turning sixty ) and buoyed by several strong and smokey Mescal Margaritas, you make curious decisions. Like picking up a phone call from someone who normally doesn’t even make it into your spam folder.
“Hello?” ( Me )
“I think we need to get back together…..” ( Him )
So I invited him to my second party, this one with just family, because at one time he was family. It was a dynamic group but definitely the kind of gathering that makes you kind of nervous. You feel me? A bit like a landmine or perhaps potentially the greatest night of your life? I just wasn’t sure. It was still very much a question mark and no matter how spectacular and extravagant the seafood tower was or the soothing sound of the Pacific Ocean twisting and turning at dusk, I still felt a little edgy.
We purposely sat across from each other and leaned around the stacks of chipped ice and crab legs to chat and connect. I ordered a crisp glass of Sauvignon Blanc , even though I had vowed not to drink while swimming in these dangerous waters. An easy chemistry floated in and old roles and dynamics were re-established. I took a breath and thought; healed?
Fuck no!
Well, I would learn that later. When he reached for my hand ( this time around lobster tails ) there were tears in his eyes. Like a lot of them. That is when I made my fatal error. I asked how he was.
And as I waited for the answer my mind and body gave me the most beautiful gift ever; my brain shut down and I blacked out. Still sitting up of course, still eating shrimp but not hearing a word he was saying. It was like all my angels converged all at once and said “let’s get the hell outta here.” And I did.
I just wasn’t ready yet. I still had a lot of learning to do.
First success.
Then devastating failure.
Then Rome…
Turning sixty turned into everything I had ever dreamed off.
And it all started because of that damn Seafood Tower.
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Grazie Mille!
MJx