The adage goes: If you love something set it free; if it comes back to you, it’s meant to be.
Vincent and I stopped seeing each other a week before Christmas. It was an abrupt halt; no it was more like a skid on an icy road; that awful sensation that you’re careening out of control no matter what you did; fishtailing, barely missing the guard rail or ditch or other cars.
Once I cleared the black ice of our relationship, I began to forget, i began to not remember the images of Vincent, the sounds of Vincent, his voice, his body, his touch.
I thought I was over him until today.
And there was the lob, the text which came: Your clothes are in the store as am I.
So I went, to pick up my clothes and, I guess, to pick up where we left off.
There was Vincent, standing at the door, that half-crooked smile, waiting for me.
I shopped a bit wishing to lengthen the time I was there.
Why do these things happen to us? Why do people we’ve let go come back like a boomerang? to torture us or to provide a second chance? Why break off something that’s good only to rekindle embers back into a roaring fire.
Is the adage really correct? If you love something set it free; if it comes back to you, it’s meant to be.
Or is that just a coda in relationships?
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 