Blasting from the pasting

Normally I would not do this. I would just have sat and cried, and tried to work this out on my own.

I got a lovely email from a man from college time this morning. This first man whom I ever saw my beauty reflected back in his eyes. He had plays written about him, dreams created, and stories upon stories of what might have been. The what's so was a beautiful evening over 13 years ago when I could see what it was going to take to become a woman. That night, I did not step into being a woman, and we shared nothing more than a kiss on the hand and a shoulder rub, and a very sweet song. And he has stayed with me this whole time.

He found me. And told me again of my beauty. Shocked, to say the least. But his words came from such a loving and perfect place, that I had to respond. And in my tank top and ripped undies I wrote this:

"The party ended and I left on cloud nine. I drove back to my apartment in Solana Beach with the sun coming up and had the most beautiful sunrise ever in history greet me and my day. I was absolutely infatuated with you, I may have even thought it was love because it was so pure, with no attachment, with grace and ease--even just for those few hours. (Your sister) may have told you I even wrote a play about that night-- entirely fiction, but it was a way to keep that beautiful moment alive for me for years. You are correct, I didn't refute. If given the opportunity again, I wonder how things would have been different.

I know you are married. (Your Sister) is so proud of you and shows you off when she can. I have heard about your ups and downs over the years and am happy that you have an extraordinary life with all the bumps included. I also know that I am beautiful. And I thank you for saying that (emailing, at least) because the first time I ever felt beautiful was when I was lying on your couch rubbing your shoulders and you kissed my hand and made that declaration. Over the years others have told me the same, but never was it so sweet, so honest when you said it. I recently found another man who I believe when he says it, my James. And possibly for the first time in my life, I am open to another human being to love.

Alas, there is nothing to be done about this. Except to say thank you. I often wondered if you knew that the night I met you my life changed forever. Now you do. That was the night that I realized what it is to be a woman.

I wish you and your family the best that life has to offer. I look forward to meeting again at some family gathering of the (insert family name here) clan. And I wish you well. You impacted my life in ways you never knew. And now you know."

After writing this, I crawled back into bed with James. And he said "How was the gym... wait, why are you crying?" and I told him the story of loving someone so perfect in a moment, just for a few hours and then living on that as fuel for years. And always in the search of that honesty, regardless of the circumstances. And that that one night had me make a decision (conversely) to believe that I would only be good enough for "second best" -- that if given different circumstances, i would be the one. But that someone else had been chosen to be the one before I had a chance. This would repeat itself throughout the course of my life. With boyfriends, with jobs, with friends, with living arrangements, with passions.

I've done things I am not proud of. And yet, I still can love myself.

And James held me. And he said "You are MY One. And I am not going anywhere. Nothing in your past would have me love you any less than I do right now."

I love my James. I am going to marry him and be with him for forever. And we will have little round green-eyed babies that laugh loudly and cry softly and never can be without sunscreen. And I am whole and complete, and there is nothing left to say to the blast from the past other than thank you.

Life hands you opportunites to make choices along the way. Its in the matter of choosing that makes the difference.