For those just joining us, the next few blog posts will be taken from the comments in this post.

Debbiy wrote, “So, what’s going on outside your window? What do you see?”

I responded with a few short paragraphs in the comments section. Here is the rest.

There is an elderly Greek woman sweeping the red leaves off the sidewalk in front of her apartment across from me. That side of the street is completely free of cars since it’s Thursday and alternate side parking is in effect from 9:30-11 AM. City streets always look awkward with one half completely devoid of vehicles. I always get the urge to sprint up and down the street, that close to the sidewalk, running on pavement that I otherwise never get to touch.

The sky is gray and the world seems quiet, as if it might snow. It reminds me of my winters in Buffalo, in college, when the world turned dark for six months of the year, perpetual gloom hovering on the horizon. Snow was constantly falling, steadily building a blanket on the lawns between the dorms while I shuttled between classes in the Center for the Arts. Nibbling at a grilled cheese sandwich in a leotard and sweatpants, reading through notes before a Theatre History quiz, developing a lifelong love of coffee during my late afternoon math class.

Buffalo winters remind me of my college boyfriend, who has been on my mind quite a bit recently though I can’t say why. The last I heard, he was getting married. Or, he was getting engaged. What is the difference? He was doing something that did not involve me and it infuriated me and hurt me and I painted my entire living room bright blue just to stop myself from crying all day long.

I took a deep breath and took a few weeks and finally wrote him an e-mail in September. It wasn’t just that he was getting married. It was that he had been dating a girl for years and had never mentioned her to me. It was that in his e-mail, he had asked me for advice about it, as if I had some input, as if he was making sure that I had readily moved on. This to me was incredibly unfair and I expressed that in the note I wrote him. I also wished him well and told him to perhaps ask his friends and family for advice, please not ME, Lord, can’t you see that it still hurts me?

I never heard back from him.

And I suppose I didn’t expect to.

It’s just that…

I sent that e-mail from work.

My work, which has a habit of eating incoming e-mails that are not from work-related e-mail addresses.

And lately, I have been wondering if perhaps, he DID write me back and my e-mail account at work stopped it from going through? WHAT IF THAT HAPPENED? What if that very important e-mail is LOST in cyberspace!?!? What if there was something I needed to know?!

The first obvious conclusion is that there is no way of ever knowing. What on earth do I do? Write an e-mail asking him if he wrote an e-mail in response to my e-mail!? Bitch, please. That is psycho and also, more importantly: What Would It Matter?

What could he have said that would’ve made a difference in my life?

What would it affect? What would it change?

Nothing.

And here is where the 25 year old is learning her way, the way that is so much more fair and even and mature than the way she was at 22 or 23. The fact is that if he needed to get in touch with me, he would have. The fact is that if he wanted me at all, he would’ve showed up at my door and told me so.

I am learning and oh does it suck to learn, that boys don’t show up at your door at midnight with a dozen roses, down on one knee, begging for another chance. If you tell a boy you don’t want him, he goes away and finds someone new. It really is that simple. Real life is not the movies and when you expect it to be, you are continually disappointed.

It was his birthday the other day and I took out my phone and stared at the keys, wondering whether or not to text him. Myself at 22 would have done just that. Myself at 25? I put the phone back in my pocket, realizing that such an action was unnecessary, immature and selfish. No need to constantly make sure you are always the center of everyone’s universe. He has made it clear that you are not wanted and as a grown woman, you are to respect that and leave it alone.

The thing I sometimes forget is that my perception of a situation makes all the difference. I can choose to panic and wonder for the rest of my life, WHAT ABOUT THAT E-MAIL!? Or I can choose to believe that life has a way of working out the way it’s supposed to. I can choose instead to look at all I have accomplished without him in my life, all the paths I have taken, all the people I have met, all the opportunities I was able to take advantage of.

And I still carry pieces of him, heck a whole large chunk. Part of him is branded on my heart and while he normally lays dormant inside, occasionally he rises up when the sky turns that particular shade of gray. Suddenly then, I am not gazing out at a New York City street, but a naked Buffalo sky, cuddled on the couch next to him, eating a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios.

But the moment passes. And I’m back in my apartment, sipping a mug of coffee, staring out my living room window. One side of the street is full of cars, lined up in a row, crowded together, packed in tight. I turn my attention to the blank side of the street, the empty side. I will continue to stand and watch the street cleaner go by and my heart will surge with hope as I wait for something brand new to come into view and fill that vacant space.