We all have skeletons in our closets, and try as we might to forget they exist, they will pop out once in a while at the most unexpected times. Often giving us surprises that change our lives. He’s a well-kept secret, and I would like him to remain so until the day I die. But I guess fate has other plans, for his shadow no longer looms behind, but overhead.

I don’t fear him, I would just rather close the door on us and continue my life with someone else. But his insistence to meet and talk, shed some light into my somewhat boring world. He’s right, I truly lived when I was with him. I wasn’t afraid, I didn’t have my guard up, I was free from all the constricting emotions that hindered my ability to trust other people. To this day, I wonder how he was able to make me open up. Maybe because we understood each other and we were going through a similar emotional turmoil.

D is like me. Battered and bruised, but still standing strong. At one point we were helpless to the needs of others, to the expectations of friends and family. We overcame it together, through words. Our chats gave new meaning to the word conversation. His wife left a couple of years ago, leaving him to care for P (who’s such a wonderful beautiful boy). There were times I looked at them together, and I would wish that the sperm donor would have such magical moments with my son. D’s patience at learning sign language so he can tell P that he loves him breaks my heart even now.

But isn’t that what I wished for in the past; to meet the perfect guy. A man who puts his family on top of his priorities, and isn’t afraid of looking like a fool just to show them how much he loves them. A man who would love unconditionally and expect nothing in return. A man who would swallow is pride and accept defeat. A man who’s capable, hardworking and responsible. Sometimes though, perfect isn’t what’s right for us. He’d be the perfect embodiment of a Knight in Shining Armor – minus the horse and armor.

I met him in National Bookstore, of all places. These things only happen in books that I read, and it’s not supposed to happen in real life. Two people don’t just grab at the same book at the same time. People don’t just look at each other and laugh like silly children, introduce themselves, have coffee and spend a whole afternoon together. It’s too surreal to be true. And maybe that’s why I never gave it a chance. Because real life doesn’t offer a lot of chances at a perfect life with a perfect guy. Real life is all about pain and suffering, proof is what we see everyday; people starving, fighting and selfishly stepping on others. That was my downfall, my inability to see the beauty in life and accept it as part of mine.

I often say sorry to D, but I never once meant it, until now. I didn’t have any reason to cut him off like that. I was just too terrified to start living a different life. I was comfortable in my own little world, with just me and my son. I wish my boy had met D and P; but I didn’t want him to see a different kind of father and son relationship. I didn’t want my son to expect the same from his dad, and I didn’t want him to be jealous of what other boys have.

It’s all in the past. We all have to learn to close the door and open windows to let fresh air in. D has told me plenty of times, that we have to end a cycle to begin a new one. I just wasn’t able to stop an old cycle when I was with him. If only I had known this when I was with D, I would have given love a little bit more. But would that have changed destiny? Would it have changed the fact that I wasn’t ready?

As I was writing, I realized that there’s really no need to talk to him. He’ll understand me. He’ll respect my decision. He’ll find the answers here. He’ll read between the lines and know exactly what I want to say.