We were always meant to be. He just didn’t see it at the time – at least not in the manner that I saw us.  In my mind, we were married by the time we turned 24 and pregnant with our second child by 27.  In my mind, we would’ve grown old together and we would’ve experienced the happily ever after created by dreamers and animation facilitators. 
 
Well life didn’t pan out quite that way. In fact, I’m not sure why I still write about him. Maybe it’s because he is and forever will be the guy that I wanted but never had.
 
We’ve lived parallel lives up until this point.  Both got married, and divorced; loved and let love.  But none of those things seemed to really matter without each other. At least not to me.  No matter where I turn or where I go, he’s always lingering in the back of my mind.  I feel stalkerish at times because I think of him so often. But the reality is that I would rather not be in the same room – especially if I know that the topic is not us. He sits idle on my page.  I don’t check to see what he’s up to because my eyes are closed to the world he lives.
 
 But from time to time I get a glimpse of his parallel universe – and I’m reminded that we are worlds apart.  Only God knows if our paths will intersect one day.  And it’s easy to assume that since we were faithful to our spouse, at least with each other, that we would reap great benefits. Divorce tore down marital walls that we built with other people, and I can’t help but wonder if we were building on unstable ground.  Today, as our paths narrow in on one another, I wonder if a perpendicular path will bind us in to a straight line. 
Years of wondering about our destiny is exhausting and quite old – and only recently I’ve gained independence by creating passwords different from his name.  Wow, his name…did I really have his name for a password?  Perhaps I was compensating for not having the key to his heart.  Or perhaps I knew that his name unlocked so much more than access to my e-mail or checking accounts. And my hopes for naming my daughter Alliyah are second guessed, because I’d feel like I’m living our childish fantasies of raising her together.
 
What needs to happen so that I’m no longer haunted by this dream that’s been nothing but a nightmare?  Maybe he can help. He can stop listening to what I have to say – when we do talk – and ask me to listen to him for once.  Maybe he can start revealing how he feels so that it’s no longer a mystery to me and I don’t have to fantasize about what will one day be. 
 
I love him dearly, and that will not change, and I’ve always had his best interest at heart.  But I’ve realized over the years that maybe it’s best that we continue to live parallel lives. And so with that said, I am announcing that this is my final piece on him. No matter what emotions I may hold, or situations arise, I vow to never write about him again.  I’m moving to a place where I can dream again – a life without him in it. I’d love to live a life where I am free!
 
 
 
- Written by Beatrice McClearn
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