Four years ago I went on a first date that ended up changing the course of what I consider to be my second adult life. I suppose if I take a butterfly effect view of life, I could argue that I’ve gone on lots of first dates that changed the course of my life – or that every action in some way has changed the course of my life… but I don’t remember every first date or every minute action – nor can I see the long-term impact of those things. But I can see that where I am today (mostly for the better – at least in terms of writing and feeling and being compassionate) is a result of this person having entered my orbit and changed my gravity. I say second adult life because back in 1999, I went on a different first date that ended up in the marriage and a family that defined my first adult life (also for the better – and tomorrow is my wedding anniversary).
There are a lot of things I remember about that day four years ago and the days surrounding that day. It was a Saturday and it was hot. Earlier in the week, on Wednesday night, I went to a Ben Harper concert in Philadelphia. I got hit by a drunk/reckless driver on my way home from the concert – he/she sped off and my car was pretty damaged (dents on doors, bumper hanging off). That Friday, I went to an outdoor concert at a local farm. The band played cheesy covers. I was texting with my potential date trying to convince her to move our date up a day and for her to join me on the farm. I think I made fun of the Hall and Oats song that was being covered. Instead of her joining me, my friend Hank came out. I mowed the lawn on Saturday morning – my date and I texted pictures to each other – she was in her car heading to a friend’s house and stuck her tongue out. I was in the shed getting ready to mow the lawn and looking serious. I texted a friend saying that for the first time in a long time, I was really excited to meet up with someone – as though we knew it would work. That night, not really knowing the area where we were meeting, I parked way too far away in an area of town I knew a little better. I had to hustle to get there on time. Parking in places I already know (as opposed to driving/parking closer where I don’t know the area) is a thing with me – I get a little anxious about knowing the parking situation at new places in cities. The next day, Sunday, was Father’s Day. I went to my brother’s house – he and my dad were still talking back then. I drove back into the city for date number two after hanging at my brother’s. I think the tire and seat were stolen off of her bike that night. We went on lots of dates after that.
As happy and as meaningful as that relationship was, the fallout from it was dramatic. The sudden loss of my sense of home prompted me to leave. I started a country-wide job search that sent me to in-person interviews in St. Louis, Jackson, TN, Memphis, TN, and several cities in North Carolina. I also interviewed (though not in person) in San Francisco, San Diego, Houston, and a few other cities. I felt the need to get out (there was an urgency to it) and eventually landed in Memphis. The loss also prompted me to look for ways to build a more internal life – one of writing and thinking, one that wouldn’t be so dependent on whoever the next person might be. I had already been in the process of rediscovering poetry and a little bit of writing, and suddenly I felt like I had lots of things to write about. This blog, for whatever it’s worth, and a little over 100 poems, for whatever they’re worth, are the result of spending these last few years trying to be the person I thought I had found or thought I would be in that relationship. My interest in spirituality and kindness and introspection increased as I tried to practice letting go and moving on without the crutches or catalysts of blame or bitterness. Even those practices were driven by wanting to do the opposite of what I had seen this person do.
Four years later, I feel wiser, more patient, more forgiving, and as though I have a bigger and deeper perspective on my place in the world. Though never a deal-breaker in the moment, the things this woman and I argued over seem silly if not ludicrous now. A series of losses (relationship, friendships, place, cats, job, place again) combined with whatever the pandemic has done to the world has given me (and a lot of us) a different, softer, more appreciative perspective on life and relationships. Four years ago, I met someone on a first date that felt different than the others – the moment felt bigger and more profound. We might have hoped for different outcomes, but our time together, and everything that has come after, has been transformative nonetheless. While I believe that a kind word or a bird singing or a small moment can have life-altering impacts, it seems, that in the course of a lifetime, there are a handful of days or events that shake us to our core or send us spinning dizzy, wild, and perhaps a little unevenly into the unpredictable geography and evenings of our future. For me, June 16, 2018 was one of those days.