Philly and the Single Lesbian
I say all the mundane things – lose weight, gain more success at work, try to live healthier – all the while knowing that I really only half-heartedly have any (real) New Year’s resolutions.
However, the last three months of 2010 have been so different for me. I have been more introspective, reflective, and downright analytical about life. Which led me to look at the word “resolution” itself. Sure it means “firm determination,” a “resolving to do something,” a “course of action determined or decided.” But it also points to a fineness of detail that can be distinguished in an image, an explanation of a problem or puzzle – a solution.
In other words, clarity.
In 2011, I seek clarity. I want to be able to fish through all the bullshit that is life and recognize and embrace what’s “real,” and substantial. I want to notice all the little things that life has to offer and cherish them because when life really goes to crap, aren’t the “little things” what one misses the most? I want to truly “live, laugh, and love” – and not just buy that cheesy home decor decal with the same saying.
This New Year offers new beginnings, new roads, with new horizon lines – and I plan on smelling every flower and noticing every sunset on my way.
The catch? My ex came back to me.
The last chapter of a book I have long finished and placed in its respective place on my life’s bookshelf has just been sent into second printing, this time with an alternate ending. I think.
Over the last three days of 2010 I have been talking to my ex. Conversations, meetings, dates, more conversations. Full and raw disclosure. The kind of disclosure one wishes they had with a partner, but knows is never actually possible without recourse. But it happened with us because – honestly – we have nothing to lose.
I told her about hook-ups, people I dated, and various “single stories.” She told me about overcoming her depression, talking to her parents about her sexuality, work stresses that tore us apart, crossed boundaries, and how she is different.
The solid truth of the matter is that I want to believe all of this. You aren’t just with someone for four years because it’s “easy.” We clicked. We genuinely love(d) each other. She knows all my layers down to my core and I know the same about her. We are alike – and yet – so different.
She asked me back. Scratch that. She not only asked me back but gave me a quarter-karat diamond set in a solid Tungsten band. A ring. It’s all I have ever really wanted from her – that next step. And here I am looking at it all, holding onto the sides of the ladder, lifting my foot and about to step up – and I’m frozen.
Is this real? Can I trust this? Is this ladder as steady and reliable as it once was? Is it worth raising the stakes and calling her bluff?
Diamonds were once thought to be the material most resistant to compression. If so, is that the pressure I feel around my heart? Or is it true love?
Crystal Fox is a chef in Center City who is dating again. Will she find love? Stay tuned.