Release

After hemming and hawing and mulling over my options, I did something mature. I wrote to Mr. Close Encounters and asked him to drop me a line to let me know if our tentative plans are a go. I eliminated all qualifiers and editorialized, apologetic words, and just put it as simply as possible. It was important to me to strike the right tone. I didn't want to communicate a)desperation, b)annoyance, or c)insecurity because none of those things were part of my experience. I did feel disappointed at the thought that nothing would come of our eerie pre-meeting last week, but it was nothing I couldn't get past. I just needed to close the loop.

I didn't feel right just deciding, preemptively, that it was a closed chapter (my usual modus operandi in these types of situations). So I convinced myself that it was not unreasonable to write again without the benefit of a last reply from him (I loathe having to contact someone again when the ball is decidedly in his court to get back to me). Whatever the outcome, I thought, taking back a bit of control will give me the peace of mind to not care whether he writes back. And it did.

He wrote this afternoon to suggest that we get together tomorrow. Along with the suggestion, he mentioned some other newsy things about his walks to work and how pleasant they've been in light of the weather. The timeframe he mentioned won't work, so I asked if we could push it back a bit. And now it's a done deal. Tomorrow night, I will actually have a conversation with the man I saw from across Calvert Street. Exactly one week from the day of that weird, highly-charged encounter.

I assumed that my prodding him with another note (via the site) was the impetus for his e-mail today, but when I logged on tonight, I saw that he has not been active for at least the last two days. So, whether I wrote him [again] or not, I would have heard from him today, it seems.

The object lesson for me is that it's okay for me to be present, to ask for confirmations, to decide how long I'm willing to indulge not knowing something crucial, how vital it is for me to do what I need to do in order to be okay with myself. It's not that my making choices changes another person, it changes me.

Honestly, there was a moment right after I read his e-mail when I felt just the tiniest bit disappointed that he had written after all... because I was so okay with never hearing from him again, because I wasn't waiting for him... I don't know if that makes any sense.

Don't get me wrong. I'm happy I'll actually get to meet him, but arriving at the point of peace with "whatever" put me in a different head space--a detached place of no clinging or grasping.

When what you want comes to you--after you've put it into perspective--it's still a welcome arrival, but not a matter of your life. Realizing this can only serve me well as I continue to navigate this new territory.