After two and a half years of silence, I saw him last weekend. And I saw him clearly. Not muddled by my addiction to fantasy, not fuzzy thanks to my former need to escape myself. But I saw him.

And, oh, he is such a wonderful man. Really, truly. All at once I remembered why I had a crush on him, why we stayed together so long. Because it made sense at the time. It really did. And I loved him. Still do.
And then I remembered that sweet wonderful from knowing another human being so intimately and vice versa. They are there for you when you’re sick. You are the first person they call when important — or mundane! — things happen in life. You lean on one another, in good times, in bad.

Earlier this evening I had a total meltdown in the lobby of the 88th precinct. Long short: I spent all day driving around suburban Long Island to buy new taillights for my baby in order to make a ticket I got last night go away. Hempstead Pep Boys: sold out. Was given the worst directions ever to the next Pep Boys, and dejected, gave up and got on the highways. (Those of you who have driven in Long Island should know the headache pain I was feeling by now.) Finally got them at an AutoZone, was informed that it was an electrical problem, not a bulb problem. Crawl down Atlantic to a place that does electrical, 90 minutes and $150 later I am hooked up.

But when I arrive at the police station just within the 24 hour window that the cop gave me last night, they tell me I needed to get there half an hour before sundown.

Commence snot flow and tear duct opening and I am a complete and total failure and my ex boyfriend is leaving NYC.

And when I call him to apologize that I might not be able to make his going away party tonight — he’s moving to Pasadena (Millsy, Ozzy, Julia, Erin, Chinkara, etc.: expect phone calls soon, boy has no people in L.A.!) next weekend for a new job — I can’t help but cry and all over again, he is wonderful and supportive and kind and loving.

Just as he always was.

And I miss that, I know that we are not right for each other, but I miss that easy familiarity and comfort that comes from being with someone for nearly four years. How I can curl into my tears and dribble out nonsense and yes he knows all too well how I get around cops but two of his friends are on the job and is there anything he can do to help?

Oh dear oh dear. It will be nice, once I get there, to have that again. Assuming I ever have that again.

But tonight, I am feeling bittersweet. Overcome with sadness for what I do not have, overcome with happiness for the next step in my ex-boyfriend’s life, swept back into sadness for missing what he and I had together.

Shopping list: kleenex.

And Kleenex and love and go go Gadget-arm hugs to my friend Ari, whose father passed away two weeks ago, and my friend Roy, whose mother passed away this week.