Simply Solo Spotlight: Serendipity – A True Story

Today’s Simply Solo Spotlight is by the talented writer, Edward Grey. I love reading Edward’s blog for tips on writing as well as short stories guaranteed to transport me to another world. Be sure to also check out his official website to keep updated on his writing endeavors!

Quick shameless plug: Do you have a story to tell? Advice to offer? Did you just have literally the worst date of your life and you must write about it? I’d love to have you as the next Simply Solo Spotlight! Contact me at: simplysoloblog@gmail.com.

Serendipity – A True Story

We all know the movie types: this person loses their significant other and struggles to notice true love as it smacks them across the face more violently than a two-week-old fish in the hot sun. No one believes there is truth in any of these movies, and for good reason. Hardly anything ever works out the way we see them on the silver screen. However, these stories are the works of the human mind, and thus they cannot be completely unrealistic, which means you aren’t completely bonkers for thinking that Mr. Right might one day be that fish.

This leads me to Serendipity, which is—and always will be—one of my favorite romantic movies. Although there seems to be at least a little mystical power directing the plot to an amazing end, everything that happens during the movie is nothing short of priceless: from him always checking for that book to her eye-balling five-dollar bills to see if his name appears on it. That is a kind of dedication that even some of the most faithful of loved ones cannot say they’ve experienced.

In 1999, I was young, seventeen, living in Arizona (five-hundred miles from my parents), and working hard to survive. I couldn’t live on my own yet, so I stayed with my friend and his family. People had come and gone, and most didn’t even leave a microscopic footprint in my life. One did, and when she came into my life, it was as if she stomped me into the ground, turning me into nothing more than a moist pulp smeared into the carpet. It sounds unpleasant, but I can assure you it was absolutely wonderful.

For a few months, we grew closer and closer, but I soon moved back into my parent’s house (California) because I realized that there were things I needed to take care of to succeed as an adult that I couldn’t do while working 40+ hours a week on a flex schedule. I never said goodbye, I just left. Sincerely, it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.

Despite separation, she and I kept in touch through the old AOL Instant Messenger. Our conversations would go on for hours and hours, never faltering except for when sleep or work intervened. Soon, the messages became less gradual, and she disappeared from my life altogether.

In 2004, I heard a song by Ronan Keating called When You Say Nothing at All, and I instantly thought of the one that got away. I did my research on MySpace (read: stalked people with the same name) and eventually found her profile. I reconnected, and though it was five years later, we picked up as if nothing ever changed. We told each other stories, and soon she told me she was going to be visiting her brother in a nearby city. I cleared my schedule, and when she arrived I spent some time with her, and even introduced her to my girlfriend.

That was a problem. We always had feelings for each other, those little strings that liked to pluck soft romantic arpeggios in the hallways of our hearts, but she was seeing someone—and so was I. Her situation could use change, but I, unfortunately, was falling in love with the woman I was seeing. That didn’t matter though, because if she had gone out on a limb and told me how she felt, I likely would’ve ended it. (Certainly saving me a lot of heartbreak in the future.)

Sadly, she never said anything before leaving, and we never explored a future together. We talked for a few months, and eventually our lives got in the way again. Six years had passed, leading into a quiet 2010 complete with the murder of my engagement. MySpace had crumbled, and I was now using Facebook. Throughout those six years, I would often search for her name, but would always come up empty… it seemed like she was gone for good.

I let a year pass quickly into 2011—well I should say fate let a year pass—before I found an old song I’d written for her when I first moved away to California. I don’t just mean silly lyrics either (although they seem pretty mushy), but it was a full on song: guitar, drums, etc. This heartfelt song made me do a “thorough” search of Facebook, and I finally found her. I friended her, and she accepted (against what her husband wanted her to do). We didn’t talk (her husband again), but we kept a close eye on each other.

A few months later, I found five long conversations I’d saved from the AIM days. Going through it brought back some emotion, but most of all, it made me miss her more than I realized. I sent her a message with them attached, and we picked up again right where we left off: in perfect harmony with each other.

While I had helped fate along a little bit, things seemed to fall into place quickly. It all made about as much sense as a romantic film (which is no sense at all), and that’s when I realized that I needed to make my own romantic film by taking charge of my own destiny. What was even more serendipitous is she was leaving her cruel husband, and I wasn’t seeing anyone, perfectly bringing our lives together where it failed so many times before.

Pictured: Fairytale / Nonsense / Life

This time, I don’t plan on letting her go. She will be in my life for as long as the world allows. I plan to hold onto what we have, cherish it, and love her for everything that she was and is to me. I don’t want to regret losing her. This tenacity is something I learned from my experience in loving and losing, and repeating the same thing over and over. You should certainly be just as tenacious, regardless of the pain someone has caused you in the past. So if you know someone dangling that stinky old fish in front of you, perhaps taking a step down an uncertain path will be just what you need to move on and find what you are truly looking for.

Do you have a fish in your life? Have you reconnected with someone in your past that you feel is the best decision you ever made? Tell me about it in the comments and help others feel confident in taking that fantastic adventure in a new direction!

Copyright 2011. Simply Solo blog by Catherine Gryp. All Rights Reserved.