Driving to work Monday, I heard an acoustic version of Summer of 69 that I had never heard before. Hearing this totally pure and organic version of its former self, almost (almost) sent a tear roll down my cheek it was just that good. I always liked the original version, but the acoustic version is unbelievable.
Monday night, I was laying in bed, wondering why I had not yet fallen asleep. It was well after midnight and suddenly this thought popped into my head: Years ago, Mr. X and I had some email exchanges that I recall, though not in detail. I wonder if we were to read them now, would they show any evidence of where we’ve ended up? It’s too bad I don’t have them anymore.
Or do I?
I jumped out of bed, fired up the laptop and started combing through my email. I’ve had my main email account for just about 10 years now and I thought there was no way in hell I’d have saved any of these emails, especially since I never could have known the importance and significance they would hold for me, right now, at 12:30 a.m. on a Monday night / Tuesday morning, a little over a year into the best relationship of my life.
When I found an email from October 2000 from the lady from whom I adopted my Sammy dog, I knew I had Oprah’s chances in a Supermarket Sweep that I would find at least one Mr. X email.
“Velvet, I located the information for Tippy…” [that was Sammy’s ‘shelter’ name]
Sigh. I cannot imagine my life without this little dog…the dog who has mysteriously managed to procure a subscription to “Cruising World” magazine. Then I found an email where I placed an ad in the Macon Telegraph in April, 2004 because Thora had run away from the home where my ex was living.
“Black mutt in Bolingbroke, ran off Thursday night during storm. One blue eye, one brown, answers to Thora.”
I never really wanted dogs, but they have taken such a hold of my heart that I can’t imagine life without them. That pet chinchilla was fun, but the dogs are way better.
Then I found the folder that contained a variety of emails, at the very bottom of which I found what I was looking for. Not all of the emails, but emails where he was my boss, and I was his employee and we were discussing work related issues, punctuated by brief asides of a more personal, though not intimate, nature.
From August, 2004, there’s an email where I complained to Mr. X about how we were all being treated at work with our workspaces and he jumped to our department’s defense and ripped some new assholes. There’s another email from later that month where he went head to head with our poor excuse for a Division President, and made the idiot look like, well, an idiot. I started forwarding these emails and then Mr. X called, asking why I was still awake and laughing at how all of this is coming back to him, things he had long forgotten. I said, “You know, it’s the forceful, in-control person in these emails who I fell in love with.”
The original relationship was good. But this? This relationship blows everything else away. I loved my job, but sometimes you have to trade something you love to get something you love more.