Memory Lane

I had an interesting experience this morning at work.  I was asked to go back and recreate a series of events that occurred last year on the project I was managing at the time.  I am not a copious note taker in my daily life, so in order to help out with the request, I had to go back through my e-mail from that period.  This was last August and September, and at that time I was still in the 4-year relationship that ended suddenly at the beginning of this year.

As I scrolled through all of the e-mail exchanges searching for the ones that were necessary to describe the relevant programmatic milestones, decisions, issues, and responses, I couldn't miss the personal exchanges between me and my partner that were interspersed among the work stuff.  Not being of sound mind, I allowed myself to take a little trip down memory lane and read through these.

I'll tell you right now, I am a letter writer and that means that I also tend to write longer e-mails to people that I know well and care about.  Obviously I am a modern man and I blog, text, tweet, and instant message.  But I also miss the days of my youth when the only way to stay in touch with someone was to write to them, assuming of course, that your parents were like mine and wouldn't let you stay on the phone for hours, fiddling with the cord to keep you hands and arms and feet busy. I like putting my thoughts and feelings down on paper or an e-mail.

In the time frame at the end of last summer, I didn't write any deep or substantial e-mails and she wasn't a writer, so even if I had, there wouldn't have been any reciprocation.  But what struck me as I read through 6 or 8 weeks of conversations is that I didn't miss or skip any opportunities to make sure she knew how I felt about her.....if I had died suddenly in a car crash, she would have known that that I loved her and that I was thinking of her.  Beyond that it was also clear that I was actively engaged in living a shared life with her, that her thoughts and dreams and kids and health and plans mattered, from the mundane details of daily life to helping her improve her running skills to planning future vacations to shopping for homes to buy together.  I listened, I cared, I participated, I gave of my love, attention, time, and money.

My conclusion from this little sojourn into the not to distant past is that I know how to be a good partner, I know how to have a relationship.  I worry about this sometimes as relationships seem to be few and far between for me, and holding on to them often seems as difficult as trying to hold onto water.  But the truth is, I know how to show up and I know what it means to share a committed life with another.  I don't know how to save a relationship that's slipping away, how to convince someone that we do in fact have a future together, how to keep them interested when they're drawn to another, or what to do when they believe relationships shouldn't take much effort. 

I may not be ready to fall in love again, but when I do, my quick study of how I functioned in my last relationship is at least reassuring that I have the tools to serve me in the next.  I find that vaguely reassuring and affirming at this point in my life.