An Ex Encounter

“This is my husband, Tom. Tom, this is [ex boyfriend name].”

We were in the V&A Mall, doing a bout of much-needed clothes shopping for Tom when we walked, slap-bang, into an ex – my first live-together boyfriend from quarter of a century ago.

For a split moment, before the introduction and before features reflected the recognition, I contemplated acting far-sighted or distracted; to walk on by and not open myself (or them) up to the weird moment.

But our eyes had locked – I knew he knew I’d seen him. Amazing how much human intelligence gets processed in a busy nanosecond.

Allusiveness would simply have been cowardly.

They both reached out their hands to each other in a handshake, faces open & smiling.

The past and the present colliding in manly manners.

My mind took a snapshot.

I’ve held both those hands once upon a time.

I’ve been up close & personal with both those faces.

I’ve seen both their light & both their shadows.

I’ve known both their demons & their dreams.

Two men – total strangers to each other – but each with a unique file of memories in my singular Brain Bank.

“What a nice guy”, was Tom’s comment as we walked away – demonstrating in that pure perspective how nice a guy he is too. I reflected. “Yes, he always was a good one.”

Just a brief encounter but that, in itself, added to the surrealness of how wonderfully weird life can be. 

How strange that we can spend a period of time with a person, experiencing such significant moments together and – even more importantly – the insignificant moments…

Sleeping side-by-side⁠

Brushing teeth⁠

Eating meals⁠

Watching TV⁠

Joining social circles⁠

Dissecting conversations⁠

Giving presents

Stealing trust

Packing groceries

Unpacking insecurities⁠

Some moments in time will forever belong to that person, stored dormant in the attic of our mind’s eye. It doesn’t detract from the importance of the people to come; it’s simply a common truth that we all have; an inconvenient reality for our egos to deal with.

We gather the most intimate information about another person in a way that only intimate relationships can do.

And then… poof! The period of joined time comes to an end, the life-paths part, dust gathers in that corner of the attic and, before you know it, you’re two near-strangers in a shopping mall.

How wild!!

Life is like that though, right? Each life story is made up of a million fragmented moments… all getting pieced together like a jigsaw puzzle with no box.⁠

Every day, every encounter, every observation – we’re building on this puzzle; picture unknown.

Sometimes, we’re working on the border, playing with the edges of our boundaries and our beliefs, creating the framework of the picture we’re trying to create.

Other times, the puzzle seems easy – pieces slotting in effortlessly; colours and shapes and words an obvious fit.

But most of the time, we’re working on the vastness of a blue sky or a choppy sea; nuances so subtle; its importance lost in the sameness and mundaneness. Each moment, each random piece a mere experiment. ⁠

Maybe this one.

Pivot.

Maybe this way.

Pivot.

Maybe not.

Discard.

And here’s what I now know:⁠

⁠

Even that discarded piece will have its moment of belonging. ⁠

⁠

Every piece of every puzzle feels, at times, rejected. A misfit. Abandoned. 

But it will find its partner; it’s perfect surrounding pieces. It will have its moment of jubilation where it plays a pivotal part in a hole becoming whole. 

⁠

It just has to have faith – and faith is always hardest when hope is low and hurt is high.

Every unique picture takes shape and eventually makes sense.

⁠And maybe one day, like an ex encounter, you find yourself putting two of those pieces unexpectedly together. Another small, seemingly insignificant part of the puzzle linked. A bit more of the unknown picture is revealed. You take a moment to observe the union – and maybe, if you’re lucky, it’s a picture that makes you smile.⁠