Stuff About Me

Thank god almost no one reads blogs written by ordinary individuals. I can tell this blog stuff that I wouldn’t tell human beings. Even if some poor soul reads this blog, they won’t know who I am. So what’s the harm in writing secret stuff? Anyway, with that in mind, I think it is high time I divulge some personal information about myself, so if I were you, I'd quit reading now. If you decide to continue, don't blame me for the four minutes of reading boredom.

I’m originally from Phoenix but have lived in Yuma for about five months now. There’s a lot I like about Yuma. There was a lot I liked about Phoenix. I like the size of Yuma but I guess when it comes right down to it, I’d prefer Phoenix. I suppose a lot of the reason has to do with the idea that I still consider Phoenix my home.

I wanted to move to Yuma for personal reasons. See, in Phoenix I was in a three year relationship with a guy, a relationship which ended about seven months ago. For purely selfish reasons I will now briefly revisit that relationship, and how it ended.

Alex and I met in Phoenix a few months before I graduated from Cornell. I had flown home from school to visit family and friends. Alex and I met, of all places, at a Jiffy Lube. I had taken my mother’s car in for an oil change and Alex was there in the waiting area. That’s where I first saw him. It was just me and this fairly good-looking, dark-haired guy in the rather small room.

As I recall, Alex casually mentioned that he was there because he knew the shop supervisor and could get an oil change for a good price. I replied that my mother had given me a coupon for 25% off the regular price of an oil change. Alex chuckled and then I followed suit. That was how our conversation, and the relationship, began.

I still remember that Alex seemed soft-spoken and polite. He warned me that the mechanic was going to show me various dirty filters from my car and then suggest I buy new ones. Alex informed me that the new filters would be overpriced and I should decline the offer. A moment later and right on cue, the mechanic came into the waiting room and asked me to come look at some filters that needed replacing on my car. I glanced at Alex, grinned but somehow held in the giggle. When I came back into the waiting room a few minutes later, Alex asked me if I had a telephone and could he have its number. I didn’t think twice. In fact, I told him that if he wanted to call me while I was still in town, he had better hurry since I was flying back to Ithaca, New York the next day. Five minutes after Alex left, while I was still sitting in the Jiffy Lube waiting room, my cellphone began ringing. Alex and I went out that evening. I could go into detail about that evening, but it would take too long. Suffice to say, it was a mesmerizing.

In the following six weeks that I was away at school, Alex called me almost every day. The few days that he didn’t call were because I called him first. Our conversations sometimes went on for hours, and my grades showed it, but I didn’t care. Alex was a 26 year-old, self-employed handyman. We dated for about four months and then I moved in with him.

Our relationship was rock solid. I know my girlfriends were envious. I was the one with the higher education, but it always seemed as if Alex had the brains, much to my occasional annoyance. I remember one sunny, Saturday morning I sat by and watched Alex replaced my car’s stereo as he talked about his various philosophical views. I found I wasn’t so much listening to what he was saying as I was captivated by the man speaking.

On my 24th birthday I arrived at work and there awaiting me were two dozen, or twenty-four, roses. One Valentine’s Day I opened a red envelope to find a heart-laced homemade coupon for a free dinner for two at Christo’s, my favorite restaurant.

I won’t say we never argued, but I can say that we didn’t argue very much. We were sharing our lives as partners. Alex was everything I could want in a man.

Then about seven months ago Alex told me he wanted to date some other woman. He said he “just wanted to see what she was like”. I was surprised but not utterly shocked. Alex had casually mentioned a woman he had met as a handyman. Also, he had seemed just a little distant in the preceding two or three weeks, as though not all of him was there with me when we were together. Anyway, in the space of five minutes I became angry, then cried, and finally told him that if he wanted to date other women, he could, but if he did, our relationship was over. Those were my terms.

I got my answer and two days later I temporarily moved in with a long-time girlfriend. She was amazingly understanding and thoughtful. I can’t say that I wasn’t brokenhearted, because I most definitely was. I didn’t hear a thing from Alex for about six weeks, but then one evening he called me and told me he missed me and that he wanted to see me. I asked him if the other lady were still in the picture. All I got for an answer was silence. I said good-bye and hung up. A few weeks later I got a chance to relocate in Yuma, and here I am.

Not a day goes by when I do not think about Alex. But the pain that those thoughts once induced has now greatly diminished. I suppose it is true that time heals all wounds. Anyway, I’m thinking that seven months is long enough and it is time to reintroducing elements of romance into my life. After all, I may have been heartbroken, but I wasn’t killed. In the meantime I support myself with a fairly decent, well-paying job. I'm an avid hiker, as well as a painfully amateur photographer.

And while I'm both talking about myself, and being honest, I should say that I have suffered from a relatively mild anxiety disorder for about eight years. For a while I was both an emotional and a physical mess, but through cognitive therapy I regained my mental health. Most of the time I am in control of the anxiety disorder, rather than the other way around, and it is almost undetectable in my behavior.