This is the second in a series of articles looking back at moments from my nearly 50 years of life. These are moments where I zigged. But what if I had zagged instead?
In some ways, life becomes like one of those Choose Your Own Adventure books. The decisions you make have ripple effects throughout your life. If you do this, then that happens. What about the decisions or events that could have happened but didn’t? That is going to be the purpose of this series of articles.
The first article saw me reflecting on my decision to not go away to college and, in fact, take a semester off before continuing my education at all. It had a huge effect on my future.
In this second article, I am looking at another moment that had a major rippling effect on my future. This one, when changed, could have resulted in this never being written at all.
These articles won’t be so much about rehashing regrets. They are more of an interesting look at how many times in life you are faced with the potential of a big change. What do you do when the opportunity arises? Let’s try a different path.
In the spring of 2004, I was a mess. The three years since I had returned to Cape Cod after living in Las Vegas had not been kind. Yes, I had graduated from college with a 2-year degree in communications. However, the stink of failure, in my mind at least, was hard to wash away.
I was meant to succeed in Vegas. I was supposed to have gone there, finished college, gotten a good job, and moved Cape Cod into the ‘completed’ chapter section of my life. That did not happen. It will also be a future ‘alternate timeline’ article, so you will get the full story then.
All you need to know for this piece is that I did not succeed in Las Vegas. I came home with my tail between my legs. I went back to cooking, then left for landscaping, then returned to cooking. My most taxing job was battling the overwhelming depression that hovered over me for years.
I was working as a cook in the spring of 2004 when one of the most important moments of my life occurred. I saw her. Through the rectangular-shaped window of the swinging door to the kitchen, I saw the most heart-stoppingly beautiful girl. My world was never the same.
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| The view from 2004 |
I officially met her a few days later. She almost immediately cured my depression with the confidence of someone scaring off a bear with a stick. I was in love.
We spent much of the summer together. I felt this unusual feeling of wanting to be my authentic self around her. I always had a tendency to keep at least a little bit of my guard up around people, but she was different. It was like every rom-com rolled into one and gently placed into my hand like a butterfly.
Now, of course, we all know that if something seems too good to be true, it usually is. My summer romance in 2004 was no different. It had nothing to do with her. It had to do with her situation. She didn’t live full-time on Cape Cod. She was a live-in nanny for a family, and they spent winters in New Orleans, Louisiana.
It was a hurdle for sure. At first, it was not insurmountable, though. She would leave with the family back to New Orleans in October, but then return to Cape Cod the following April. The confidence I had in our relationship told me to just relax; good things would be waiting on the other side of a harsh New England winter. Silly me.
In one of those ‘of course’ moments, the husband and wife she nannied for split up shortly after they returned to New Orleans. This meant there was no return trip to Cape Cod on the horizon, because why would there be? Sure, maybe she would have come up for a week to vacation, but our relationship had hit a crossroads.
I had never felt love like I did for her, before or since. I had given her a placeholder ring during one of her last weeks on Cape Cod. Along with it was a promise of a real ring and a potential real engagement when she returned the next year. I don’t think she believed me, but I was deadly serious. She had changed my life so deeply that my focus turned to building on that life with her.
There was a big problem in the way. New Orleans is more than 1,500 miles from Cape Cod. It is not exactly somewhere that you can drive to easily. What was I to do?
In reality, I kept in regular contact with her, typically daily. I slowly felt the distance winning. To try to combat this, I booked a flight to New Orleans in January 2005 and stayed for four days. She and I got to spend a lot of time together seeing the sights, meeting her family, and enjoying each other’s company. It all felt right again.
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| A collage of memories from that New Orleans trip |
I had to act. During a drive around New Orleans, I came clean. I was seriously thinking of moving down there permanently. To my surprise, she seemed shocked by this news. I told her how I felt and how I wanted to at least give our relationship the full chance it deserved.
She didn’t outright reject my plan, but it wasn’t the overwhelming success I'd hoped for. The rest of my time visiting went well. I flew back home fully intending to follow through on my idea. I even began voicing it to my family and friends as if I were trying to make sure I was held accountable.
Weeks passed, and little was said of the potential move. I don’t know if she was hoping I’d forget about it or wanted to see if I was serious or just all talk. When her birthday drew near in April, I again broached the subject. She was not into it.
Unbeknownst to her, I had begun scoping out apartments and jobs in New Orleans in anticipation of relocation. I had begun contacting an art gallery that was looking for a host.
My family saw how serious I was and supported me. Everyone supported me, except for the person I was going to move for. She backed away. She felt things were going too far too fast. Looking back now, her being 23 and staring at a man she had known for a year, planning to move 1,500 miles to be with her, must have been a lot. It was a lot. I know that now, but in 2005, I was as crazy in love as Beyoncé and wanted to finish my story.
What happened in reality?
In reality, I dropped my plans. She and I took a break. I don’t know if you’d consider it the official breakup, but we went from being frequently in touch to being more intermittent. I was hurt and confused. I am sure she was as well. The best of intentions cannot overcome some things.
A few months passed. Then a major event threw us back together. On August 29, 2005, Hurricane Katrina decimated New Orleans and much of the Gulf Coast of the United States. All of my hurt over not getting the storybook romance I wanted went out the window. It was replaced with fear over her safety.
I reached out and got the update. She and her family were safe. They ended up being evacuated and relocated to Houston, Texas. To this day, she still lives in a suburb of Houston.
The relief over her safety morphed into wonder about my own timeline. As is the title of these articles, I was already thinking of what could have been had I gone through with my move to New Orleans.
So let’s take a look at it over 20 years later.
My original plan was to move to New Orleans, likely sometime in early June 2005. In this timeline, I follow through with getting the job working in an art gallery and also get one of the apartments I had been looking at. I would have driven my Saturn sedan the 1,500 miles from Cape Cod to New Orleans. Fine, so I am there.
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| The Saturn model I planned to drive to New Orleans |
Perhaps the fact that I actually went through with it and uprooted my life in the name of being with the girl I loved would have changed her mind. The odds of that are probably 50-50. New Orleans is a big area, with the metropolitan area being home to nearly one million people. I believe that the apartments I was looking at were between 10 and 15 minutes from where she lived with her family. I’d be there, close, but not right on top of her.
In all honesty, I’d have been trying to court her from the time I got there. After all, she was why I moved. When we were together, we had a chemistry that was undeniable. That was when we were physically together. Apart it was different, like she needed to see me to remember she had feelings. How much would I encroach on her life to be seen?
Not to have rose colored glasses, but I do think we’d end up together, at least to start. Dating is one thing. Being in a serious committed relationship in close proximity is another. How much would she bend to fit me into her life? The bigger question is how much I would bend?
She was, and to this day is, extremely religious. In fact, she and her husband (spoiler) run a church together. Would I have moved things around in my life to accommodate a hefty dose of religion? I honestly don’t think so. Having date nights always consist of church would start to wear on me. I’m not anti-religion, but I am wary of those who make their religion the overwhelming defining characteristic of their lives. It’s the same way I feel about people who do that with politics.
So, we’d probably have had some sort of relationship. To what degree, I don’t know. Looking back on it, I feel like it would have been an uphill climb to get back what we had when she was on Cape Cod. I would have tried, though.
We then get to the bigger issue: Hurricane Katrina. I highly doubt that I would have given up on us by late August. I would have probably stuck it out through 2005 in the hopes of my birthday in November, or Christmas, tightening our bond. This means I’d have been living in New Orleans when the storm hit.
That statement in and of itself is chilling. Knowing how serious that hurricane was, the fact that I would have likely been in its path is crazy. The first question is, what happens to me? I’m grateful I don’t have to find out, but 1,833 people died in that storm.
Even if I were in a relationship, that wouldn’t have meant she and her family were obligated to take me with them. I’d like to think the offer would be made, but who knows? Would I have been fine in my apartment? Would I have been relocated to the Superdome? Would I have ended up in Houston? Or somewhere else?
My honest opinion? I’d have hoped to go with her family to Houston. If that wasn’t an option, I’d have gone back to Cape Cod if possible. To pick a path, I’d say I'd go to Houston, too. Here’s where it gets interesting as far as the future goes.
If I went to Houston, that would mean I was indebted to her family. I’d have been more likely to bend my life around theirs. I could see myself, out of respect, becoming way more involved in religion than I normally would. I’d have sacrificed my interests to stay close to her.
I can’t say if we end up together and I am then the husband she runs a church with. Maybe so. Or do I become resentful and end up leaving her and moving back to Cape Cod, or somewhere else? I was never great at openly discussing serious issues, so I’d have probably simmered until I boiled over.
At some point, we would have ended our relationship, and I would have probably come back to Cape Cod. In reality, once the plans to New Orleans blew up, I still had the itch to move and ended up doing so.
I moved to Florida in September 2005. It was very brief, lasting all of two months before I went home. Ironically, it was because Hurricane Wilma tore through and washed out all of my job interviews. Once out of money and patience, I went back to Cape Cod.
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| The reality, when I moved to Florida in 2005. |
In reality and in an alternate timeline, I don’t think my relationship dream works out. It’s sad but an honest reality check. I end up back on Cape Cod before my 30th birthday, and we go from there.
One thing that I haven’t mentioned yet that I need to mull over. My writing career, beyond this blog or anything amateur, got its start due to my relationship ending. I processed my pain through writing. It led to my blogs, which led to my first book, and eventually ten published books. Everything I have done creatively since the end of 2005 is because of her and our relationship ending.
What if that relationship came to a natural end instead of feeling like the distance was the killer? Do I have the same sadness to overcome? Do I write a fictionalized version of our relationship that becomes my first ebook? I don’t know.
Maybe the extra time we have together opens my eyes to some other career path I end up enjoying. Maybe I could build a successful career running art galleries? That’s the intriguing thing about these articles: it’s all just informed speculation based on what I know of the situation at the time and of myself.
I do believe that everything worked out as it should. It’s funny how each of the first two alternate timelines ends with me believing that I ended up on the right path. Maybe it’s just my way of coping with unknowns and unfinished business.
In reality, once my girl moved with her family to Houston after Hurricane Katrina, we slowly lost touch until one day it was the last time. She was beginning to move on and mentioned meeting someone. That was a bridge too far. I didn’t want to be a pen pal hearing about her new flame.
My biggest regret of this entire story is letting go. Once we lost touch, and I lost her phone number, that was it. She was never on social media, and thus I had no way of reconnecting. If we had stayed in touch, maybe a day would come when she wanted to give it another try? I’ll never know.
As I said earlier, today she is married, has no kids, and runs a church with her husband. How do I know this if we lost touch? I am a master internet detective. I found a shared social media profile she has with her husband. There, I got my closure. I had no need to reach out. I saw her. I saw her life. I saw her happy. That was enough.
Do I wish we’d ended up together back in 2005? Yes. Nobody has made me feel what she made me feel. But she did make me feel it. That means there’s always a chance I could feel that way again about someone else. Or, if someday her profile isn’t shared anymore, all bets are off.
She and I were good together. She and I are good apart. She changed my life more than she will ever know. She continues to do so as all of my creative endeavors trace their origin back to her. So in a weird roundabout way, she is still in my life.
“There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more
Than to feel you deep in my heart
There was nothing in the world that I ever wanted more
Than to never feel the breaking apart
My pictures of you.”
Pictures of You – The Cure
See you in the next alternate timeline
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