I know my post-vacation review on the trip with Rowdy to visit CB has been a long time coming, so here it goes—Texas was basically incredible. It was a much-anticipated, much-needed, and much-deserved adventure. And of course, without fail, every adventure of mine does not fail to include some sort of entertaining story. During our one night out with CB and some of his friends, Rowdy and I were fortunate enough to witness a relationship disagreement. Oh, and not just any relationship disagreement, but a full-out, straight-from-a-movie-screen, ugly relationship brawl. But I'm getting ahead of myself...let's start at the beginning.
It is Saturday night deep in the heart of Texas. The bars are hopping. The drinks are flowing. The crowds are partying it up. Rowdy and I are ready for an evening of non-stop fun and excitement—I mean, we're on vacation, right? CB and his friend Matthew have introduced us to some of their other friends who we are also at the bar, including a guy named Toad. We find out that Toad's fiancée is at the bar somewhere, too, but we haven't yet seen her—apparently, she is waiting to make her grand entrance.
We've been at the bar for about an hour when CB comes up to whisper something in my ear. "Hey, I am so sorry, but I'm going to have to leave you for a bit—some stupid slutty girl is telling Toad's fiancée lies about him, and I'm going to try to put a stop to it before it gets out of hand. I'll be back as soon as I can," CB promises. I nod and tell him to go, of course—he's got to help his friend. (By the way, seriously, he really needs to stop being so wonderful...I can only make excuses to myself for so long.)
So CB goes off in search of Fiancée and Slutty, and Toad stays with us, assumedly staying out of the way until things have been smoothed over. But CB isn't gone for ten minutes when a cute, blonde, livid-looking chick, determinedly elbowing her way through the massive crowd, comes up behind Toad and shoves him out of nowhere.
"Apparently, this is Ms. Fiancée..." Rowdy remarks with interest, as we watch Fiancée start to ream out Toad while he stands there looking pathetically like a doormat. She is definitely on the warpath. I look around for CB, but he's no where in sight.
Just as I turn back to the raging couple, Toad finally says something back to Fiancée—which we quickly learn is not the 'something' she was looking for. She suddenly stops screaming, takes the glass of red wine in her hand, and furiously splashes its contents right in Toad's face. Then, since that was obviously not cruel enough, she takes a look at the empty glass in her hand—and spikes it on the floor like she's Tom Brady in the endzone, shattering the glass into tiny shards.
Fiancée muscles through the now-staring crowds and heads for the exit. The worst part though? Toad, the stupid loser, runs after her—covered in red wine and all. Seriously?!?
"Okay, first lesson learned, if you ever get a bit crowded or clausterphobic at the bar, I now know how to clear the area around us quickly," Rowdy comments, amused, as we both look at the open space that has suddenly been created around the shattered glass on the floor. "Second of all, what the hell? If anyone ever did that to me, I would definitely not be chasing after that person right now. Instead, I'd probably be getting arrested, and you'd be attempting to sweet-talk me out of cuffs...."
When CB returns, we give him the update, and he hustles off to help put out fires with his friends. However, aside from that night, CB spends pretty much the entirety of the weekend with us—and I know he didn't have to. I enjoyed every single moment in Texas—including the very entertaining spiked-glass drama—and I will finally admit: I very much enjoyed spending time with CB.
There was an unexpected result of my Texas trip...a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel, you might call it. A ray of sunshine...a star glowing in the darkness...a sign of healing. You see, this lone star of light was remarkable to me, not simply because it shone far brighter than others and couldn't possibly be ignored, but because it was the first time since my ex-husband left me that I felt any inclination, any thirst, any desire at all that I might, one day, feel something for someone once again. Up until now, I have wished for the complete opposite: I have wanted to be absolutely happy on my own forever. And out of nowhere, there was a flash—a small second of hope for something different.
I received this from CB when I got back home:
Hey there. Glad you had fun. I had a great time hanging out with you. You made hanging out easy. It was the best weekend I've had in a long time (despite my obligations to leave you on Sat. and try to diffuse the relationship bomb). I'm looking forward to seeing you again in [your city next month].
For clarification, I booked the trip right before you came in town (but after we had e-mailed regularly). I told my sister not to tell you in case we didn't get along for whatever reason, but I was hoping we got along as well as we did, and well, we did. Should be a fun time.
Now, let's not go crazy; the flash didn't last that long. It is certainly not as though I've found Prince Charming on his white horse, and suddenly I'm whole again. In fact, I'm quite sure that Mr. Right could find me, appear to me tomorrow, and I wouldn't know him at all—I'm still too broken to see the forest for the trees. But the fact that I feel anything at all for CB—even if I have no idea what those feelings are or what they mean right now—has to be a sure sign that healing after divorce is possible. It's taken me over nine months now to see that lone star of light, but I'm definitely glad that I did.
And who knows? Maybe a happy ending will happen for me someday—just not yet.
Forever fearless,
Dumbfounded Divorcée
