Opening The Vault: Part Forty Nine

Breaking up is hard to do, especially when it’s with someone who’s treated you like a princess. Back in ‘97, my second and final split from then-boyfriend Larry had me guilt ridden over hurting such a great guy.

A 16-year age difference proved to be too much for us to overcome, as I realized I wasn’t ready to settle down. Still, after a year together and one brief trial split, saying goodbye wasn’t easy.

I now Open The Vault and take you back to January of 1997...

January 28th, 1997

New York, NY

Dear Diary,

Larry and I broke up again the other night -- and this time I think it’s for good.

Unlike our previous split (I initiated both), this separation was not the result of an impulse to retaliate for anything. When I ended things back in October, it was primarily because he had let me down when I needed him most.

Ironically, more so than he ever did before -- and that’s saying a lot -- Larry treated me like a princess these last couple of months. Casting off internal demons that had kept him somewhat closed off, he revealed a tender, romantic streak the likes of which I’d never seen in a man before.

Suddenly, the “little things” whose absence I’d once lamented were part of what we shared -- flowers for no reason, unexpected phone calls, expressions of love.

But sadly, all of this came as I realized receiving Larry’s affections without being able to commit to him was selfish and unfair. After giving so much to our relationship, he deserves more than the emotional limbo I’ve led him into.

In an email today, Larry indicated the door is still ajar for yet another reprise between us. As much as I miss him, though, and wish I could ignore what is standing in our way, I don’t think we can reconcile.

* * *

February 7th, 1997

Larry and I emailed back and forth last week and I called him a few days ago. As always, he was full of love and understanding. He said he still wants to be my best friend, that no matter what he wants to be part of my life.

“Not a day goes by that I don’t thinking about you,” he said softly.

“I miss you,” I said.

“I miss you too,” he replied.

It was a wonderful, comforting conversation, one that made me hopeful about the possibility of us remaining in touch.

* * *

Larry and I would indeed stay connected. And my post-breakup blues about us would soon be lifted by the return of an old flame, just in time for Valentine’s Day.

The Fickle Finger Of Fate

The other day, my trainer Raj told me about a few recent dating mishaps with his new love interest.

Date one ended in his parents interrupting their goodnight kiss, while date #2 found him in a brawl defending her from the advances of some brutish men. Raj’s date suggested that all of the drama was fate’s way of saying they’re not meant for each other.

As he shared this, I couldn’t help thinking about the fickle finger of fate – and the role it’s played in my own love life.

I’m a believer in signs, especially when it comes to make or break decisions about romance. Recently, I was on the fence about continuing to date hunky cop Rich, largely because of opposite schedules and (very) different emotional styles. After an intense two-hour phone conversation, he told me to sleep on it. Upon later discovering that Rich had logged into Match.com within an hour of our heart to heart, I knew for sure it was time to call it quits.

At the other end of the spectrum, I’ve experienced how the hand of fate can make romance happen against all odds. For me, there’s been no greater example of this than my ill-fated love affair with California-based Mark (a.k.a. Sparky).

A confluence of events led to our unlikely meeting back in ‘94. Knowing we were fans of “NYPD Blue,” a family friend invited us to watch the show filming in the East Village -- an invite that arrived while I was home from college on spring break. I happened to visit the set just a few days before Sparky headed back to L.A., and the rest, as they say, is history.

Though neither Rich nor Sparky turned out to be Mr. Right, they both reinforced my belief that every significant other crosses your path for a reason. If you’re lucky, each partner teaches you something -- whether it’s about yourself, or about what you want (and don’t want) in a partner.

That’s the thing about fate -- it‘s usually a lot smarter than we give it credit for.

Opening The Vault: Part Forty Four

When it comes to making a decision about your future, sometimes it takes reaching in to your past to do it. That’s what happened back in 1996, as I was contemplating the fate of my relationship with then-boyfriend Larry.

A trip to Toronto, where I reunited with high school sweetheart Hogan, amplified my doubts about continuing to see Larry. I now Open The Vault and take you back to October of ‘96...

October 17, 1996, New York, NY

Dear Diary,

Larry and I broke up last night. Although my decision was a long time in coming, our final moments together were excruciating -- especially because of how much I hurt him.

The man who so fiercely put his guard up months ago and who, more often than not, keeps his emotions in check, couldn’t hide the pain he was feeling. I’ve never seen the sadness that I did in his eyes, nor have I ever felt such remorse about hurting someone.

Larry is the first man who truly respected me as an equal. Despite the 16 year age difference between us, or perhaps because of it, he was sensitive enough to avoid patronizing and understanding about my insecurities.

His unconditional acceptance and affection freed me to express myself in ways I never have before. I felt safe and secure, knowing I could trust him completely and that he appreciated every part of me. If I now know the basic tenets of a good relationship, it’s because he taught them to me.

So why did I choose to leave him? Because, for all of his good intentions and honorable ways, our relationship was no longer making me happy.

Mom’s illness sharply illustrated Larry’s faults -- his dark and jaded nature most especially-- and that I could no longer endure them. He was incapable of giving me the support I needed. Right now, I need to be able to lean on someone who can lift me up, not bring me down.

Admittedly, Larry hasn’t had a great year. He failed the CFA, lost a friend to melanoma and recently, lost another to suicide. He couldn’t deal with my crisis compounding his own -- or at least, didn’t know what to do.

I feel terrible about adding to the emotional weight he’s carrying around. I just hope he knows how sorry I am -- and that I feel lucky to have had him in my life.

* * *

My breakup with Larry wasn’t the final chapter for us. Much to my great surprise, our split dovetailed with the return of a big love who continued to haunt me -- Sparky.