Just got back from an evening with Only Child (my ex-fiance -now friend - just in case you're a new reader). We've talked several times over the last few months but haven't seen each other since soon after my surgery in January. He had purchased tickets to a charity auction and needed someone to join him since his girlfriend is out of town and all his other friends were busy. I decided not to be offended that I was so obviously his last option(I'm not his girlfriend or potential girlfriend after all) and said I'd go.
It was a nice event, with an open bar and a chocolate fountain that I would happily install in my home if ever given the chance. The crowd for this environmental fundraiser was very "San Diego" in that it was almost entirely made up of 30-something surfers with money dressed in their finest duds (think Jack Johnson in a silk Tommy Bahama shirt), along with their natural beach-beauty 20-something girlfriends. Only Child, being a 30-something surfer with money, fit in beautifully. I did not.
The event was held at a stunning beachfront community center on the same beach in Del Mar where I grew up playing in the waves until I had to be dragged home and reluctantly thrown in the bathtub. The sun was out and setting in a blue sky, the water was clear and capped with foam, and the sand was white and dotted with wet-suited surfers. But it all hurt to look at.
This was the exact location where Only Child and I were supposed to have our wedding reception.
Don't misunderstand me. I am very at peace with the fact that we did not marry. Relieved, in fact, as I know we would have been terribly matched.However, our wedding-that-never-was is still the only wedding I've planned for myself and I picked that spot for all the meaningful reasons a girl picks a spot for her only (hopefully) wedding. My fondest childhood memories are right there. It is a postcard-perfect location without being overpriced or pretentious (it is a City-owned community center, after all).
But I haven't been back there since we called it all off and I collected what was left of my deposit in a shameful hurry. And I certainly never expected to return for the first time on the arm of Only Child.
I didn't think it would bother me, yet it did. Probably because I'm already emotional as I prepare to make a huge relationship leap with Wine Guy (see previous entry if you need proof). And I'm f*cking scared of it all blowing up in my face - just like it did with Only Child. This little Thursday night excursion was just too obvious of a reminder.
So I left a little early, telling Only Child I wasn't feeling all that well. Truthfully, my back was hurting from all the standing, but really I just needed to get out of there. The sunset, clinking wine glasses, and happy people gathered around tables was just too much of a reminder of what I have yet to pull off for myself.
Needless to say, I managed to pick a fight with Wine Guy on the phone during my drive home (he's out of town on business and did not mind that I was seeing OC). I tend to do that when I'm upset - misplace my emotions on those unfortunate enough to be closest to me. Oh and I'm PMS-ing too. The perfect storm. I think I'll just quarantine myself for the rest of the night and go to bed. But not before I send Wine Guy a makeup text to tell him I love him.