He's Not the One

It was a classic New York moment. I was standing outside a bar in the East Village, on the phone with The Aussie giving him directions when I saw J.C. coming at me from down the street. I could barely focus on my speech as he caught my gaze and removed his headphones.

J.C. is a perfect example of someone I thought I could change, someone I thought I could convince that I was worth being different for. Over the span of a year and a half we met, went on a couple dates, morphed those dates into a purely physical relationship, stopped talking, started talking again, hooked up again, stopped talking, started talking again, and then ended it for good. "I don't want to do the casual dating thing," I told him, when I couldn't take it anymore. "I just can't be anybody's boyfriend right now," he answered honestly. There was no hostility between us. We were just two people with palpable chemistry who wanted different things.

When I saw him on the street it was the first time I’d laid eyes on him in over a year. He was elated to see me. He told me he was on his way to a party in Chelsea but he motioned to the bar I was about to go into. “Let’s go in!” he exclaimed, always the easy going optimist. “I have a couple minutes, I want to catch up with you.” He took me inside and bought me a beer and pulled me away from my group of friends.

After the requisite job, friends, apartment details, I asked about his parents. “How’s your dad doing?” He looked surprised. “Not bad, he’s still drawing.” “Good. I remember those drawings hanging outside of their apartment.” Again, the pause of surprise. “Really? You remember that?” He put a hand on my shoulder. “I have to go to the bathroom but when I come back, can I steal you away from your friends again?”

When he came back our conversation turned. “So, is this the significant other?” he asked, motioning to my friend, B. I told him B. was just a friend but the real significant other was on his way. “I hope that’s not awkward.” “No,” he insisted, maybe a little too emphatically. “No, that’s not awkward. Totally fine. No worries.” His eyes lowered. “You know, we’re still not friends on Facebook. After you de-friended me, you never re-friended me.” My cheeks flushed. “Oh, it’s just Facebook.” He put his hand on my shoulder again. “Well, you were a significant moment in my life. I’m really glad I ran into you.”

He left shortly after and then The Aussie came and it was a perfectly lovely evening. But that line stuck with me. “A significant moment in my life.” It’s hard to work through a breakup, or a relationship that was once incredible but turned sour, but for me it is the most difficult to accept something that had all the potential in the world and never had the chance to even get off the ground.