Split Second Decisions

It was bound to happen eventually; as big as New York City is, I find myself constantly running into people I know, whether it's been days, months or years since our last encounter. So even though I was shocked when I walked past my ex-boyfriend yesterday after not seeing him for two years, I couldn't say I was particularly surprised. I had imagined this moment, wondered when and where it would happen, how I would react, how he would respond, what it would feel like. As with most things in life, nothing really prepares you.

I was coming out of the 73rd street subway on Broadway, and a few feet after I exit, there he was, walking past me. Had I not looked up when I did, not been so naturally in tune to the contours of his profile and his gait (yes, even after two years, I remember), I would have continued walking. I touched him lightly on the back of his arm as I called out his name, and when he turned around and smiled broadly upon seeing me, I was terrified. What would he say? Would he stay and talk? Was he happy to see me? Could I hold it together?

He gave me a big hug and kiss on the cheek, and said, "Wow, it's been a long time." He couldn't believe it had been two years(for the record, I thought I would be married and with a kid two years after him, but I digress). Apparently, he's working on a project right now on the Upper West Side, my neighborhood. And in all my fantasies and fears of running into him, I didn't imagine these elements: the pouring rain (oh, yeah, the rain made it even more spectacular), the near-miss, a job in my area.

He proceeded to tell me that I "look really good" with a slap-happy grin on his face, told me about his new nephew and how adorable he is, blah, blah, blah. And while we chatted, I was thinking to myself, I've got this. I'm calm, I'm smiley, I'm collected and cool. Who knew? I wasn't on the verge of tears, I didn't want to slap him across the face, I was OK.

Eventually he tells me I'm getting soaked, never mind that I had stopped noticing and couldn't feel it anymore. One more hug and kiss on the cheek. One more huge smile where he tells me how I look realllly good, literally giving me the once over, and I tell him likewise. "It was really good to see you," he said as we part ways. Again. Two years later.

As I walk the six blocks home, I realize I'm shaking. I come out of my daze, going over our encounter in my mind, finally acknowledging that I was soaked from the torrential downpour. What are the chances? Out of 8 million people, why then? Why that particular moment? Why, when i haven't been sad about him in MONTHS, nor even thinking about him, did I just run into him? I've had men since him, and I will have men in the future. Then it hits me. This is the irony of the universe. Just when things are fine, a ball is thrown at your chest, breaking the wounds and causing you to bleed, to reanalyze the relationship and the moment you met, the moment you parted after the "break-up," why it didn't work out, what could have been done differently, all the ruminations that cause these periods to be called heartaches. When I got home, I collapsed into a ball on the floor and sobbed.

I have been kicking myself since yesterday afternoon for not waiting for the 1 train at 42nd street. Had I stayed for that train,which I ALMOST did, instead of taking the 2/3 Express to 72nd, I never would have seen him. Those split-second moments, when we hop on one train and not the next, change our days, weeks and lives. You don't think,"I'll wait for the local, so I don't run into my ex whom I haven't seen for two years." This realization makes me wonder how many other random moments and decisions have prevented me from running into him before yesterday, or any other ex or one-night stand for that matter. I suppose, however, that this is what makes life interesting, even when the wound bleeds again.

If I hadn't looked up when I did through the rain and instantly recognized the familiar outline (which I would recognize anywhere, to be honest), I wouldn't have cried myself to sleep last night, aching for him again after all this time. Nor would I feel angry that I haven't heard from him since. How dare he? He has no right to re enter my life, albeit it was no one's fault. WHY doesn't he want to see me? Why not call, text, grab a drink? I will never know; I only know what I feel. Yes, I have healed from the demise of what was "us," but no, I'm not OK right now. I have relived the pain and hurt I felt two years ago for the past 36 hours. While I was walking in my neighborhood today, I wondered if he recognized the restaurants we would go to while on his job. Has he been reminiscing about our time together, is he eager to walk by my apt, just to be close to me, the way I have been remembering all our moments together? Does it hurt him to be near my presence? Was he excited to find out he'd be working near me, hoping to run into me, or was he indifferent? Did our memories even play through this mind, or was he secretly praying that he wouldn't see me, for whatever reason?

I know this is temporary and that it won't take me nearly as long to heal from this encounter as it did the break-up. I'm a different person than I was, as is he. I will never have the answers to the questions I want, won't know if he was shook up yesterday after seeing me or if he just forgot. Out of sight, out of mind, in typical guy fashion. I won't know if he's been dying to contact me but is ambivalent. Or perhaps he is with someone else and has no desire to relive what we were, even for a moment. At one point in time, we were intimately connected and aware of each other's day by day feelings. Now, he knows nothing of my life, and I know nothing of his.

However, I will say this: I'm happy he noticed how damn good I looked and had to tell me twice. I'm glad he seemed happy, genuinely so, to see me and hugged me tightly, the way I remember he used to whenever we saw each other. Mainly, I'm glad we weren't both in tears like we were two years ago parting by a subway stop, delaying the inevitable. The only difference was the rain. A lot of rain.