The other day I was regaling someone with a dating mishap
from a couple of years ago. She was amused by my misfortune, and giggled
gleefully, as I sipped my beer dejectedly.
But I thought – heck why not amuse more of you?
In this story, I played a key role in reuniting a previously
crumbled relationship. Am I a hero? Perhaps. Let’s go back a couple of years. A
mutual friend had suggested she set me up on a date. He sounded great. For one,
he could spell. I was in.
Following some intriguing texting, we decided to go
strawberry picking. It was delightful. But that’s where I should’ve started to
pay attention.
You see, it hasn’t even been a year since he broke up with
his girlfriend of 10+ years when she rejected his proposal. Ok, I thought, that
might not be as final as one might think, but let’s give it a shot. He then
told me he wrote a song about their breakup, and would like to tattoo the
lyrics onto his body.
Alright, that’s a bit of a sign he may not be over it, I
thought, but let’s keep giving him the benefit of the doubt here.
The last droplet of information that should have just forced
the red flag right in my face was when he revealed to me that while he no
longer lives with his ex, he did move into an apartment immediately next door
to hers.
Now it did strike me as peculiar that you would want to run
into your ex that frequently. Also, did Ottawa run out of other apartment
buildings? But I guess at least he didn’t have to drag his bindle of sadness and memories too
far. Once again, however, I shoved that red flag far into the depths of the
pockets that represent denial. That was probably the absolutely only apartment
available in this city of a million.
On one date, that lasted 14 hours, we got caught in the rain
ended up at his apartment.
What I didn’t know at the time was that his ex was peeking
through the peephole – presumably not creepily at all – and keeping an eye out on
her man. Sure she didn’t want him, but god help anyone else who might! Like a
predator watching his prey, she stood silent against the door of her apartment.
“He left so early
this morning,” she likely thought , “why isn’t he back yet to write more
breakup songs about me?”
And alas she spotted me. This is when the sheer power of
potential loneliness overtook her. What if he won’t mourn her forever? What if
he moves on? What if she eventually has to change apartments? This cannot
stand. She took a swig of …herbal tea probably (she was a vegan) …and decided
to pen a love letter.
The next day, he reveals to me receipt of this letter.
“well…that’s looking real promising for me,” I mused.
“No, no …I’m only meeting with her to talk. Nothing more,”
he assured me.
“Yeah, no, that sounds really great and chats with exes are usually pretty
unemotional and easy and I will definitely continue to be the person you date. I can feel it.”
He was meeting with her on Sunday. Our dinner date was set
for Monday. Well long story short - they are now married and have me to thank
for it. Well, me and a functioning peephole.
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