Better off, maybe, but never alone

I know there's a saying about how whenever God closes a door, he opens a window, but is there a law of ex-boyfriends or something that says when one guy exits the building another one drops by to say hello? Like the house can only handle so much testosterone at once?

Copywriter found my blog today and, even though we haven't talked in more than 6 years, emailed me to say hello. He is still copywriting, living in NYC, and is engaged - so I didn't mean to imply that he was literally my open window (although he did hang my window treatments, once), only back in my stream of consciousness. But what's funny is that he was already there.

Last week I mentioned my former days as a glow-stick twirling, trance-music dancing, card-carrying member of the cheesiest clubs in New York. That all started immediately after we broke up. We started dating my first year out of college; at 22, I was a small fish in a very large pond and he was my older, wiser knight in shining armor. I found that I preferred going to dinner with him and his friends rather than spending Saturday nights at the dive bar, spending twice on alcohol what we had paid a year before and staying out until 4AM doing it. Maybe I was afraid, maybe I was prematurely mature, but whatever it was, it worked for me. It worked for both of us.

We spent about fourteen months together when I started feeling that I was growing out of the relationship. I don't know if I've ever even told him that; I'm not sure I knew it at the time, only something I was able to identify later on. After a year and a half in the city, I got a new job, a new roommate, and suddenly wasn't as scared to try new things. It was like I had growing pains, and the relationship just didn't seem to fit anymore.

Fast forward to two months later, I found myself in the Hamptons with Kristin, dancing on a pedestal to Alice Deejay's Better Off Alone, singing out loud to the seemingly-appropriate lyrics. While I may have grown out of my relationship, I apparently regressed into a crazy club kid who spent the next year rebelling against her former self. It became our anthem of that summer and a statement of my independence. Every time I have broken up with a boyfriend since, I think of that song and how much I believed, then, that I was better off alone. Not because Copywriter was a bad boyfriend - quite the contrary - just that I needed to be on my own for a while in order to grow up. Even if I did my growing up somewhat out of order.

A few weeks ago, I got a message from Kris saying something about hearing our song and thinking of me. I responded by playing it in her voice mail the next night. Then, with it on my mind and all, I downloaded all of those songs last week. In the back of my mind, I thought about whether the song would have significance this weekend. And on Thursday night, when my plans fell apart, Kristin was there in my hotel room reminding me of our anthem. Her, Cara and I reminisced about our club days and how I had gone from being the first one married off to the last one out of the bar, and reminded me that all these years later, I will never be truly alone.

Of course, as I've gotten older and relationships have soured, the song has taken on a more bitter, taunting tone, whereas I sometimes think to myself, (sniffle) Maybe I am better off alone. But that's a pity party for another time and one I'm not having right now, so please don't even worry. I have spoken to John and I am fine. Seriously. I'm not going to get into specifics or anything, but please know that I am completely okay with this whole thing, and probably won't even start feeling sorry for myself until March 2nd, when I realize that 31 is only 3 months away and I am no longer "newly 30" as I write in my profile. Oh crap, that's soon, isn't it?

Anyway, always a witty writer, Copywriter's message was a few short paragraphs that had me in stitches laughing over their simple truths. Namely, that I still wore the same ski hat from 7 years ago: "You always were thrifty for an heiress."

It was a breath of fresh air and I am glad the window was open. Even though I think my house is big enough for everyone.