“Wise” Commentary from an Old Man

It has been nine months, but I still dream about you. I lay in bed before falling asleep for hours and hours imagining the next time I might possibly see you. I’m sure none of the scenarios will ever occur, but I want to be prepared for the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I might run into you some day — or even better, that you might just show up at my door apologizing.

I never know how it ends. Each time we have a different conversation, but I never see the ending. Do I take you back despite all the horrible things, or do I shut the door in your face? All I know is that I wouldn’t be happy no matter how it ends. I would be in tears and scared for either ending.

“You know, I was talking to your grandmother on the phone on the way over here — well it doesn’t matter what she was talking about — you know, she just keeps going on and on. But, it came to that dating today isn’t anything like it used to be when I was your age,” my grandpa tried explaining to me across the dinner table.

“I wouldn’t know,” I told him.

We both knew that wasn’t entirely true. I haven’t exactly dated; like I’ve had a boyfriend, and I’ve had a few friends with benefits, but I’ve never been asked out on a date before being in a relationship.

“You’ve seen the old movies, and the new movies. So you know. You know I would have to go pick you up. Walk up to your front door and open the car door. Now you kids just meet up.”

He would have to drive half hour or so to come see me. It wasn’t long distance, but it wasn’t around the corner either. He would come pick me up to go out, whereever. The gate would call my parents so they could OK his entrance to the neighborhood, so I would know when he was here and I would open the garage and wait outside for him. Usually he would open the car door for me.

Now I was day dreaming at dinner too.

“Things are just so different today,” he told me.

Now sitting at home, I scroll through my feeds. “Why Sleeping With Your Ex is a Bad Idea” and “5 Signs You’re Just Not The One for Him” are posted on Elite Daily along with other articles about how to know if he is the one. “The Right Type of Boyfriend for Every Zodiac Sign” is posted on FaceBook. As I read and scroll and try my best not to think about him — he’s so irrelevant at this point — it is over and that’s not changing — I’m not even talking to him so there is no way I’ll be sleeping with him, and obviously I’m not the one if he cheated. “9 Reasons Why to Give Your Cheating Significant Other a Second Chance” pops up — no, he’s past his second chance, his third chance, maybe even his fourth — no, he didn’t cheat more than once.

Day-dreaming, trying-to-sleep-dreaming, and really dreaming, he is there.

“I could never hate you,” one character said to another on my TV show. And, I could never hate him, as much as I would like to or as much as that might make things easier.

I know something about my grandfather that only my grandmother and I know. He wasn’t as great of a husband or father as everyone thought. So while he tries to give my advice, I can’t stop thinking about the major flaw I know. Every word he says must be taken with a grain of salt because of it.

Just like any other male I know, there is a lot more to them than you think