Opening The Vault: Part Fifty Six

When you’re facing a devastating loss, your partner becomes much more than a significant other -- he becomes your anchor. That was most definitely the case eleven years ago, when dashing, noble Brit David came into my life a few months before my mother passed away.

Totoya: David and I had one of our first dates at this UES Japanese eatery

The friend of a college’s friend husband, David had contacted me at his suggestion when he moved to NYC. The chemistry between us was immediate, and we quickly fell into a relationship. I now Open The Vault and take you back to the summer of ‘98...

August 9, 1998
New York, NY

Dear Diary,

David is the nicest guy I’ve met in ages. He’s charming, funny, affectionate and -- hoorah! -- British. And he takes me away from the pain of Mom’s illness.

I waited until I got back from my recent trip to London to confide in David about what is happening to her. He could not have been more supportive or understanding.

David is a thousand times more fun and uncomplicated than the baggage-laden older men I’ve usually attracted to. Then again, it’s only been two months. He could develop three heads or never call me again. With my track record, I’m prepared for anything…I think.

* * *

August 24, 1998

David is so wonderful -- everything I’ve wanted in a man for so long. The first guy who is not only good to me but good for me. No ex wives, no kids, no tortured background.

He’s continually coming up with ways to make me smile (cute emails, gifts, flowers). For two months now, his track record has been a very good one. He’s seeing me at my worst and yet he hasn’t run scared or pulled back. Part of me wouldn’t blame him if he did.

* * *

David remained steadfast, and our bond continued to deepen, as my mother’s condition deteriorated. Our love, however, would be put to the test by the return of an old flame -- at the worst possible time.

Opening The Vault: Part Fifty Four

When you remain friendly with an ex, you can feel it when there’s another seismic shift in your relationship. So it was with my California-based old flame Mark (a.k.a Sparky).

After breaking up in the summer of 1995, Sparky and I kept in close touch, communicating at least once a month and rekindling things whenever business brought him to New York. As 1998 began, I was surprised that two months had passed without a word from him. Sensing that something was wrong, I decided to call Sparky. I now Open The Vault and take you back to the winter of ‘98...

February 27th, 1998
Bangor, Maine

Dear Diary,

There’s a hole in my heart today. The reason for it -- the unexpected revelation that Sparky and I are through, for good.

I’d sensed Mark pulling away from me when I moved here a couple of months ago. When he failed to call on my birthday, I wondered if that was his way of saying he was letting go.

Then, on my way to work yesterday, two songs that always remind me of him came on the radio. I had the strongest impulse yet to get in touch with Sparky.

I was sitting here in my living room when I called Sparky

“Call him,” my mother urged when asked for her opinion. “He’s been a very good friend to you and you never know what’s going on in someone’s life.”

So, I dialed Mark’s work number. A secretary answered and then he picked up.

“Hello there,” he said, sounding very upbeat. “I’m so glad you called.”

“I figured I should find out what’s been going on in your part of he world,” I replied.

“Happy belated Birthday,” he said (He didn't forget…). “How are you? Is everything okay?”

Anxious, for once, to skip my end of the conversation, I quickly brought him up to date on work, grad school applications and Mom’s condition.

Finally, I asked him--

“So, what about you? Are you sick or married?”

“Well, you’re partly right,” he answered, adding that a lot has changed in his life recently.

I fell into a chair as Mark told me that he is indeed ill again -- and that he got remarried two weeks ago. Tears welled up in my eyes and I fought to steady my voice.

Mark said his diverticulitis and colon cancer returned during the holidays and that was why he didn’t call on my birthday (he didn’t want me to worry). The marriage happened on Valentine’s Day in Hawaii.

“I’m really glad you called,” Mark kept repeating. “I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Understandably so,” I said meekly.

* * *

The shocking news of Sparky’s marriage felt like the final death knell for our complicated love. It would only be a matter of time, though, before fate threw us together again.

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.

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.

SGITC Happy Hour

Last Tuesday, a dozen friends joined me at Haven, a luxe lounge on NYC’s Upper East Side, to celebrate one year of Single Gal In The City.

SGITC Happy Hour: Celebrating with (from left) galpals Marisa, Andrea and Louise

While enjoying Haven’s drink specials -- including pitchers of grape cosmos for $13 -- I filled everyone in about upcoming SGITC developments (singles survey, t-shirt contest…stay tuned!) and caught up on news of both the personal and professional variety.

Tim, producer of The Set, filled me in about the monthly variety show’s upcoming move to a new downtown location, Le Poisson Rouge. Actor and cable TV show host Chance made a brief appearance before jetting off to film a segment for an upcoming episode, floating the possibility of me appearing as a guest sometime.

Old flames were the hot topic with work galpals Katie and Marisa. We talked about the need to revisit former boyfriends that tends to precede letting go for good and the unnerving ease with which exes use the likes of Facebook and text messaging to keep in touch.

Also on the conversational menu, upcoming travels. Longtime pal Sara invited me and our mutual friend Leila to spend Labor Day weekend at her parents’ home in New Hampshire. Sign me up.

As the evening drew to a close, I found myself thinking for the umpteenth time how milestones mean so much when you have great girlfriends to celebrate them with.

Here’s to many more years of female bonding with my fabulous friends -- and to many more years of SGITC!

By The Numbers: Girlfriend Getaways Edition

Next Friday, I’ll be heading to Kansas City to visit my best friend Lisa. We last saw each other in 2008 for a girlfriends getaway onboard Royal Caribbean’s Navigator of the Seas.

Cruising Along: All smiles on Royal Caribbean’s Navigator of The Seas, January 2008

In addition to our high seas adventure, I’ve had the pleasure of traveling with many of my galpals over the years. From wine tasting in New York’s Finger Lakes region to castle tours in Scotland, girlfriend getaways have taken me to some of the world’s most magical places. Here are some of the highlights – By The Numbers:

Number of girlfriend getaways taken: 8
Number of girlfriend getaways involving road tripping and singing in the car: 4
Number of friends who made great roommates despite opposite body clocks: 2
Number of girlfriend getaways leading to unexpected romance with a fellow traveler: 1
Number of getaways featuring celebrity sightings and schmoozing: 1

That star-studded trip was to L.A. with Lisa back in 1997. She spotted Jay Leno at a local supermarket, while the both of us mingled with the cast of “General Hospital” at a fan club event for the show. Good times.

I’m looking forward to another memorable weekend with my best buddy of more than 20 years. And to seeing an old flame who just happens to live in her neck of the woods.

Coming up…flirtatious fun with an adorable European and drinks with this week’s JDate.com guy.

A Celeb Chef's Soirée

Last night, I caught up with travel and lifestyle writer Sandra Ramani at the swanky W hotel in Union Square.

Sandra graciously allowed me to be her plus one at a cocktail reception promoting the new season of “Food Trip” with Todd English. Much to our great surprise and delight, the charming celeb chef was in attendance.

Celeb Chef Todd English is a real charmer in person (file photo)

Just before a screening of the upcoming episode covering Todd’s jaunt to Israel, he quipped—

“I want to thank Israel for the 15 pounds I put on in hummus.”

Speaking of mouth-watering food, hors d’oeuvres at the event included falafel with pita bread, white bean soup and pork belly sausage and tomato ragu mini-sandwiches. Delish.

Sandra mentioned she’s been back in NYC for three consecutive weeks. As a travel writer, this is no small feat. So far this year, she’s gone to China and India on assignment. In the coming weeks, Sandra is off to Turks and Caicos, Vancouver and Jordan.

As for me, I’m eagerly anticipating a visit to the City of Fountains, otherwise known as Kansas City, two weeks from tomorrow. Sometimes, the best getaways are those of the domestic kind—especially when they offer the promise of reuniting with a best friend and an old flame.

Writers Roundtable Brunch

Sunday afternoon, I had the pleasure of catching up with bestselling author, songwriter and playwright Gwen Davis over brunch at Le Parker Meridien restaurant Seppi’s.

Ladies Who Brunch: Nadine, Gwen and me at Seppi’s

Joined by Gwen’s new friend Nadine, a 24-year-old recent Florida transplant to the Big Apple, we settled into an outdoor table, where we were well taken care of by Seppi’s solicitous staff.

As we enjoyed a scrumptious meal (croissants, brie and bacon omelette and perfect pomme frites for moi), our conversation took us through the highs and lows of love, life in New York and our passion for the written word.

Nadine and I found much common ground – having both gone to London for our junior year, kept a diary since the age of 7 and suffered the loss of a parent. We talked about moments of feeling a loved one’s enduring spirit, be it in dreams or when something that reminds you of them crosses your path, and the great comfort that brings.

Affairs of the heart were also top of mind during our two-hour plus repast. Gwen told us about an old flame that has evolved into a good friend, while Nadine and I spoke of past loves that continue to loom large today.

I couldn’t help thinking -- why is it that it’s easier to remember a lost love with nostalgia instead of warts and all? Maybe it’s a function of not wanting to let go of what you once shared. Or, simply because it takes a new love to release you fully from the ghost of an old one.

As my beloved late grandmother used to say, one nail drives another out. In a city of infinite possibilities like New York, it’s nice to think that if you hammer away long enough, eventually that new object of your affection will make an appearance.

ZogSports: Co-Ed Fun For A Good Cause

Tuesday night, I headed up to a high school in Harlem for my first night of volleyball as part of ZogSports.

Zog is a charity-focused co-ed social sports club for young professionals in NYC. The best part, in addition to schmoozing for worthy causes, is all sports leagues offer both competitive and (extremely) casual divisions. Since I was probably still in high school the last time I picked up a volleyball, this made hitting the court a much less terrifying proposition.

I was happy to find that, like pretty much everything else, athletic competition matures considerably once you’re well out of your teens. Everyone at Monday’s pre-season scrimmage series was friendly and eager to cheer each other on. I never knew what a great icebreaker playing sports could be.

Most of my teammates – two couples, two fellow single gals and one hunky guy -- gave me kudos for my (unexpected) knack for serving. Now I just need to work on, well, everything else.

Afterward, I walked over to the subway with teammates Carrie and Dawn. We all admitted our ulterior motive for signing up with Zog, and shared our frustration about being outnumbered by couples. Still, as Carrie reminded us, we have post-game happy hours to look forward when the spring season officially kicks off next week. Sign me up.

Coming up…drinks with an old flame and an encore visit to The Set NYC.

By The Numbers: Facebook Edition

Like Google, Facebook has become a ubiquitous presence in my daily life – and not just because I’m mildly obsessed with pithy status updates.

As millions around the world have discovered, the social networking site is a great resource for connecting and reconnecting with people from your past and present.

In the eight months since joining the Facebook universe, I’ve inevitably encountered a few ghosts from my eventful love life. Here’s how they all add up -- By The Numbers:

Number of old flames I’m Facebook friends with: 5
Number of exes whose friend request I ignored: 1
Number of (now married) stalkers from high school who’ve emailed and IM’ed me: 1
Number of old flames whose profiles indicate they’re now gay: 2
Number of potential new flames with whom I’m in Facebook limbo: 1

That potential new flame would be Seth, a teacher colleague of my cousin’s who’s been emailing me through Facebook almost daily for two weeks now.

Though the site makes it easy to keep friend-ly exes at a distance, graduating to non-Facebook forms of communications can be a challenge. And of the many things that can be revealed through email, physical chemistry most definitely isn’t one of them.

Up next..recessionary pampering and this week’s charitable social outing.

By The Numbers: Down Under Edition

Seven years ago this month, I made my first trip to Australia. Fortune has smiled upon my love affair with this great country and, on Friday, I’ll embark on my fourth trek Down Under.

As I gear up for my ten-day trip to Sydney and the Islands of the Great Barrier Reef, I can’t help thinking about some of the more memorable moments I’ve experienced on the other side of the world. Here a few of them -- By The Numbers:

Number of Aussie men I locked lips with during my five months as a Sydneysider: 5
Approximate number of beaches visited Down Under: 4
Number of visits to observation deck of Sydney’s Harbour Bridge: 1
Number of Kylie Minogue concerts attended: 1
Number of alpha male Aussie roommates engaged in a serious bromance: 2

Doyle‘s on Watson‘s Bay: This was the view when one of my Aussie roommates took me for a sunlit late-afternoon repast at the renowned seafood eatery

Number of male roommates who took me for a motorcycle ride through Sydney’s majestic Watson’s Bay suburb: 1
Number of Aussie old flames I later reconnected with to find that lightning doesn’t always strike twice: 2

I think, sometimes, the point of reconnecting with an old flame is to confirm why he is, in fact, an old flame. After all, it’s must easier to embrace the future when you’re free of any ghosts from the past.

I'm looking forward to finding out what adventures await me Down Under this time around!

Catching Up With An Old Flame

Last night, I caught up with my Aussie old flame Jason, for the first time since our romantic encounter back in his native Perth in 2002.

Over a delicious dinner at one of my favorite neighborhood Italian bistros, Zucchero e Pomodori, the conversation flowed freely as we filled each other in on the last six years.

Zucchero e Pomodori: One of the best Italian bistros on NYC's Upper East Side

I told Jason about the fulfillment I’ve found since leaving the gypsy world of TV news behind for public relations, and the amazing places (Argentina, Brazil and Costa Rica, among others) my job has taken me to. He mentioned his own travels as First Defence Secretary Liaison for Australia's High Commission, including a stint in Iraq that had him wanting to return as a tourist.

Eventually, we got onto the subject of romance. It turns out Jason has someone special back in Australia who will soon be joining him up north in Ottawa, his new hometown. Interesting that this never came up during our email exchanges over the last six months, but then again -- men are nothing if not full of surprises.

After dinner, we headed over to Irish pub Doc Watson’s for drinks and talk about the differences between U.S. and Australian sports (baseball lasts for a few hours, a game of cricket usually stretches across several days). A few beers later, it was time to call it a night.

As we parted company, I couldn’t help thinking about the curious juxtaposition of an old flame with a New Year -- and feeling even more that this is a time to look forward and not back. I can’t wait to see what 2009 has in store.

The Aussie Has Landed

Tonight, I’ll be reunited with my favorite old flame from Down Under, Jason. Along with a few of our friends, Jason and I will be ringing in 2009 together.

When he called a couple of hours ago after he arrived, we fell right into the easy banter that was very much a part of our time together back in ‘02. Jason and I met through a mutual friend during my visit to Perth. He showed me the sights -- including a stunning sunset on Cottesloe Beach that remains the most memorable one I’ve ever experienced.

We reconnected six months ago through -- of course -- Facebook. I was delighted to discover that the geographical gap between us has narrowed, since Jason is now working as a diplomat in Canada’s capital city, Ottawa. It amazes me that, after so many years, we’ll have the opportunity to catch up.

I’m wondering if we’ll manage to rekindle the old spark between us. Regardless of whether that happens, though, I have no doubt we’ll have fun. After all, it’s impossible not to when you’re ringing in a New Year in the Big Apple.

By The Numbers: Auld Lang Syne Edition

During a recent conversation with longtime family friend Helen, she recalled a New Year’s Eve when she donned a cocktail dress -- only to end up at a hockey game with her date.

Her tale of dashed expectations got me to thinking of my own New Year’s highs and lows. As articulated so poignantly in the “Sex and the City” movie, it’s a holiday that can be fraught with peril when you’re single.

Thankfully, in addition to the January countdowns I’ve experienced with significant others, I’ve shared several with family and friends that have made New Year’s Eve an occasion to remember. Here are some of the standouts -- By The Numbers:

Number of New Year’s Eves spent with significant others: 2
Number of New Years spent in Vegas with a boyfriend who later revealed he disliked crowds: 1

Ringing in '97: I donned a balloon animal hat during a new year's double date with my sister and our then-beaus, New York, December 1996

Number of New Years spent watching “The Princess Diaries” after an old flame cancelled at the last minute: 1
Number of New Years spent lining up in the cold with an Aussie galpal before partying at Central Park’s legendary Boathouse restaurant: 1
Number of New Years spent doing an SATC viewing marathon with my cousin and loving every minute of it: 1

Every so often, it's a welcome change of pace to ring in the new year doing something low key with family or friends. This year, I’m not sure what’s on the agenda for ringing in 2009, other than spending it with an Aussie old flame in town for the occasion.

If his visit is any indication, ‘09 is shaping up to be a year full of surprises -- including a few of the romantic variety.

Running Into Old Flames

For a densely populated city, New York can still feel like an unnervingly small world at times, a fact of which I was reminded recently during my morning commute.

I looked up from my seat on the downtown N train and was surprised to see a very familiar face - my high school boyfriend T.G. Though it had been more than a decade since I’d last seen him, I recognized him immediately, probably because he looked exactly the same. Tall, fit and adorably preppy (gingham shirt, khaki pants), with blue eyes and short blonde hair with a lock that fell perfectly across his forehead.

T.G. is probably the only beau I’ve dated who comes from a blue-blooded background. During our brief romance as teenagers, we spent a lot of time at his parents’ apartment on Park Avenue. I spent most of that time debating whether or not to let him get past second base (I ultimately decided against it).

After confirming in my mind that it was really him, curiosity got the better of me and I approached T.G. to say hello. He greeted me warmly and I quickly learned that his office is only a few blocks from mine and that he is engaged to a childhood friend whom he reconnected with during a ski getaway to ritzy Sun Valley.

As he told me about his new technology company and I offered some PR advice, I couldn’t help thinking -- this is the same guy who once upon a time took great pride in giving me a hickey. It seemed surreal that so many years had passed.

We exchanged business cards and parted with a friendly hug. Our unexpected encounter found me recalling a similar experience that happened a few summers back.

I had decided to pay a visit to the Upper West Side, a neighborhood I had avoided for months in an effort to also avoid my ex Shawn, who lived there. It was time for me to take back this enchanting part of town, I thought, even if it meant tempting fate. In fact, I essentially double-dared fate to have me bump into Shawn, intentionally strolling down his block and over to Riverside Park at precisely the hour when he usually walks his dogs.

It became clear that fate had no intention of giving into my nostalgic whim so I returned to my part of town. On my way out of the supermarket, I was shocked to see another ex, Radley, coming straight toward me. He glanced downward, pretending not to see me. I was relieved. The five months I spent with Radley were exhausting. He moved our relationship along so quickly that I didn’t have the heart, courage or whatever it was I needed to have to tell him that I felt suffocated instead of equally smitten.

I smiled as we brushed past each other, appreciating the irony of it all. I had gone out that afternoon with every expectation of running into one ex--only to end up running into another.

Fate may have had the last laugh, but at least I looked damn good during my old flame run-in. What more could I ask for?