random acts of serendipity

Today after work, it was so nice I decided to go for a run. The last few weeks have seen me getting back into running regularly again, but the past week and a half have not been so good. But I made myself go for a run tonight and it was pretty good.

I had to go in to the office today because of some meetings, so I got a ride with the ex. (Who, for those of you that don't know, lives right nearby me.) It's always difficult to see him, even when we get along. Maybe especially when we get along.

So the run after work was good mentally, too. There is a little park with a pond and a sidewalk loop near my apartment complex. Now, this park is a special park.

This park is where the ex would go for walks in the evening and call me to chat while I was still in Vermont. He'd send me pictures of the park via cell phone and I'd set them as my background to remind myself of the happiness I'd soon be with. This park is where the ex ran into a co-worker and effervesced for near an hour on the great love he had found, a story which was recounted for me upon meeting said co-worker when I moved out here. It was nice. Everyone I met was really happy to "finally meet me".

And in this special park there is a special bench. This bench has the best view of the sunset. It has the best shade in the afternoon. It's got the best view of where the little fish like to jump in the pond, and it's offset from the path just enough so that you feel like you're in your own little world. This is where the ex would often sit while talking to me on the phone, and this is where we would often sit while walking in the park together, holding hands.

Tonight on my run, I walked a lap at the end. I stopped to pick some wildflowers from a flower bed that hadn't been tilled under yet for planting. I did this while thinking of stopping by the ex's on my way home and giving them to him as a thanks for the ride to/from work today. But I knew I couldn't do that. He doesn't deserve to see that I still care, and I don't deserve for loyalty like mine to be betrayed or rejected.

As I walked with flowers in hand, soaking in the golden evening sunlight, I tried talking sense in myself. I only had until the end of this lap, when I would be leaving the park to walk home and my bleeding heart would test my better judgement. Despite the haze of my pain, I saw the cheery bench patiently waiting ahead along my path. I then knew what I had to do.

I walked over to the bench as I had so many times before, but not to sit. I looked out over the park, took a deep breath, then worked the little hand-made bouquet of flowers into one of the open stripes in the middle of the bench. I walked away, taking one good look back at the little memorial I had left. It was pretty. It was fitting. And I then had a wisely uneventful walk home.