We All Know A Bob

This weekend flew by in a blur of activity.

When I was single, I certainly had a social life but not like this. I don't think that Dallas did either but as a couple, we seem to have a full calendar. Friday night, we had dinner out with friends, which was fun. Saturday, we went out to the Harley dealership because I wanted to find a new pair of grips for my big bike. This turned out to be an interesting experience.

You see, during the time that Dallas and I were apart, I dated the man that sold me my Harleys. We'll just call him Bob. When Bob first asked me out, my initial instincts were to say no because on some level, I knew that we were not compatible but he made me laugh, was obviously Harley friendly and he was kind to my children whenever I was in the dealership.

Stupid.

I should have listened to my gut because after a few weeks, it became apparent that Bob and I would never work as a couple. Dallas factored into that decision because Bob perceived my friendship with him to be a direct threat. Among the other issues, I was expected to cease communication with Dallas. So, I ended things with Bob. And he was hurt. I understood that. All my life, I have tried to remain "friends" with former boyfriends. It's an illness, really, because break ups are painful, often one sided and to expect everyone to smile, hug and move on is kind of a kooky philosophy that I have embraced. However, Bob and I dated for less than three weeks so I didn't think there would be that great of an emotional ripple.

Wrong again.

In early November, I was in the dealership to pick up an accessory and I stopped by Bob's office to say hello. BIG MISTAKE. His hurt had turned to anger. Since then, I have avoided him and consequently, the dealership, like the plague. But Dallas and I love the Harley dealership so we decided to make the trip in spite of the fact that the situation might be uncomfortable.

Dallas walked in, went over to Bob and shook his hand. They may have conversed but I sure didn't see it because I made a coward's beeline in the other direction. Everything worked out fine, although if looks could kill, I'd be pulling one or two daggers from my skull.

And I guess, that was the interesting part of the visit for me. Before we went to the dealership, I had anticipated that Bob's reaction to seeing me would be anger and it was but for the first time in my life, I didn't feel it necessary to reciprocate all that negativity. Instead, I found myself whispering, "I'm sorry", and wishing him happiness. The realization hit me that my entire perspective in life has shifted. I constantly find myself asking, "In the big picture of life, does this REALLY matter?" Most of the decisions that I make these days are subjected to that single criteria. It makes things remarkably simple and manageable.

Loving Dallas has certainly contributed to this change but I like to think that he is my reward for harnessing my thoughts and emotions.