in college i made a quilt for my boyfriend (first <3) on our first christmas together. now that i think of it…our only christmas together. we broke up about a year later. he dated, got engaged to and broke up with another girl in the span of about 7 months after our break up and i was devastated. soon after their demise we became friends again; i was still madly (stupidly) in love with him (the idea of our future together)(you know, the one where he reached his potential)(you know, the future that does not exist in reality). the blanket i’d made him came up shortly thereafter and he got sheepish. he finally told me he’d thrown it away. not given it to someone. not thrown it in a goodwill bag so someone could have been warmed by it, loved it even…nope. he’d thrown it in a dumpster. mind you, we did not break up on bad terms. the truth of this reality hurt but i didn’t pay attention to the GIANT red flag waving in my face. i didn’t pay attention to the fact that something i’d made with care and given him with love was tossed out so easily, so carelessly, so meaningfully, so awfully. the rest is history. it obviously didn’t work out. i thank the universe OFTEN that it did not work out. i think of that blanket. i wonder and hope that someone plucked it out of the dumpster, knowing that it held care and love and meaning. i still hope someone has it and loves it. part of me thinks it wasn’t in one piece going into the dumpster.
fast forward almost 17 years…to that date a couple weeks ago; the third one with a man. the man with the hands…and the eyelashes. i had offered to take him to the airport and he asked if i’d take him to BART instead. “the airport is too hard…BART is easier…my mom cries every time she takes me to the airport.” i agreed and picked him up at his apartment. i walked into his open door and said “hi.” he came walking out of his bedroom with a laptop bag in one hand and an old blanket in the other. he walked toward me with his hand out stretched, an offering to me and said, “would you like to have this blanket?” (i get choked up just thinking about how sweet it was.) i said “yes” and took it and as he turned away from me he said he’d had it since he was little. i didn’t really give it much thought at that point. we made our way to the car, chatted; he’d read the letter i wrote him the day prior (before our second date) and thanked me again. “i really like what you wrote in that letter.” he’s intense. it’s awesome. i drove, we talked, we were silent, i could feel his nerves. instead of BART we arrived at his friends house where he needed to leave a bag of his stuff. we hugged and i kissed him on the cheek. like a real solid kiss and he did the same in return. my light hair was caught in his black beard as he pulled away. (it’s these kind of details that always get me…) we parted ways.
i got in the car and cried. then i’m thinking of that blanket and i started bawling. with this man, i keep getting these “full circle” moments. little puzzle pieces snap into place and i’m like, “oh!” there is plenty of mystery and no definite “yes,” no definite “no” in our future…as is the way with the future. it doesn’t exist yet. but i’m living in the sweet, sweet little victoriously lovely universal moments in the present. “you can trust your gut.” “here’s a sentimental blanket in return for yours so rudely removed.” “you want to say that? here’s your opportunity.” i keep asking the universe for more time with him. neither my gut, nor the universe is answering the mystery of that request.
so, we’re texting while he’s at the airport that day and i say to him, “so before i treasure this blanket…it’s not like your roommates poop blanket (there was a story there…oof.) or some leftover ex-gfs, right? you did say you’ve had it since you were little?” “haha, yes. i’ve had it for over twenty years.” now…i’ve obviously done the math…because i am me. he was younger than nine years old when he inherited (probably- look at how girly it is) this blanket. this means even if i don’t know every move he’s made in that twenty year period, it’s moved with him at least five times. do i have this mans woobie? this has to be significant, right? i’m choosing to believe it is. no matter the significance to him or the outcome here, i will treasure that blanket…in my heart, always.
thank you universe. thank you job.
signing off from snuggle central…