Opening The Vault: Part Thirty Nine

Much as I’ve tried not to, I have invariably compared Mr. Right For Now to the men who have preceded him. A 1996 weekend getaway to Delaware with my then-beau Larry found me doing exactly that.

Broadkill Beach: This Delaware hamlet was where Larry and I spent our first getaway together

Having endured plenty of highway drama with my California-based ex Mark (a.k.a. Sparky), I was more than a little anxious about my first road trip with Larry. As it turned out, I had nothing to worry about -- apart from Sparky’s lingering ghost. I now Open The Vault and take you back to Independence Day of ‘96...

July 4th ,1996
Broadkill Beach, DE

Dear Diary,
Larry and I drove down here this morning. Much to my surprise, our four hours on the road flew by.

During our journey, Larry confided more about his colorful past, namely how he kept himself afloat financially after his father’s death when he was 16. It included stealing from a store he worked at.

I could feel my sense of propriety flare up. Immediately, I caught myself, looked out the window and took a deep breath.

It doesn’t matter, I reminded myself, you’re not going to marry him.

With Sparky, I treated every example of our different upbringings as a catastrophe of epic proportions. I loved him so much that it pained me to know we weren’t compatible, a pain exacerbated by his ability to properly address our problems.

Unlike Sparky, Larry listens to whatever frustrations I feel and try to cease the bothersome habit (e.g. provocative pillow talk). Considering he’s been a part of my life for nearly six months now, I have reached this wonderful comfort zone with him. But, of course, we’ve been together on a regular basis -- a luxury that Sparky and I never had.

When the Eagles’ song “Love Will Keep Us Alive” came on the radio, I couldn’t help wondering how vacations with Sparky might have been different had they been supplemented by a normal relationship.

Our differences notwithstanding, how could I feel anything but self-conscious and insecure during our trips? I felt the tremendous pressure of trying to compress the months we were apart into one isolated holiday.

Still, it seems like another lifetime ago that we were blissfully in love. I was a different person then. I’m more of a woman now -- I only wish Sparky could see that.

* * *

As I tried to convince myself Sparky was in the past, Larry and I were approaching a milestone of sorts. The occasion would prompt me to wonder if it was time to say goodbye.

Opening The Vault: Part Thirty Four

Like the song says, breaking up is hard to do -- and it’s even harder when you’re still in love with your significant other. My feelings for CA-based beau Mark (a.k.a Sparky) remained as I prepared to tell him it was over between us.

Tired of trying to forge a relationship from 3,000 miles apart -- and of the near-constant arguing precipitated by it -- I knew the time had come to call it quits. I now Open The Vault and take you back to the summer of 1995...

June 8th, 1995
San Diego, CA

Dear Diary,

Thankfully, the growth that was removed from Mark’s stomach turned out to be benign. He was still in discomfort, though, so he nixed the whirlwind excursion we’d planned and suggested we go to San Diego instead.

I was silent for the duration of the approximately 2-hour ride. All I kept thinking was -- how am I going to tell him?

A road trip to San Diego illuminated how far apart Mark and I had grown

Of course, leave it to Mark to get romantic as I’m thinking that our days together were numbered. As Bryan Adams’ "Have You Ever Really Loved A Woman" came on the radio, Mark turned down the volume and said --

"You know, it seems like every time we get comfortable with each other, you leave. There’s always this void when you go."

"Really?" I snapped. "I find that very hard to believe."

Unfortunately, when I’m mean, I’m the worst.

When we got to our hotel, Mark kept asking me what was wrong. I needed a little more time to figure out what to say, so I laid down next to him and told him as much.

He started to kiss me and eventually, I ended up on top of him. His arms were encircling my waist as he kissed the nape of my neck. Looking up at the ceiling, I fought in vain to hold back tears. I love you so much, Sparky, I thought to myself, but it’s no good anymore.

* * *

Later, Sparky pressed me again to tell him what was on my mind. I knew I couldn’t hold back the truth any longer.

Though I had rehearsed this scene time and time again, I floundered for words. I struggled to explain how I’d arrived at my painful decision.

"So, you’re saying you’re ready to move on," he finally interjected, saying what I couldn’t bring myself to.

"I don’t know," I said, my voice trailing off. But we both knew that yes was what I really meant.

Mark stood up and said he was going for a walk. I was more than a little anxious that he seemed so calm. As it turned out, I had reason to be worried -- a torrent of animosity was about to be unleashed.

* * *

Though I’d found the courage to tell Mark we were through, my timing couldn’t have been worse -- I wasn’t due to leave California for another four days.