Hindsight. No. No, not the view you get when you crane your neck around your shoulder to see if your rear looks too big in your new jeans. Hind is not referring to your behind, although I’m sure you did the best you could with what God gave you (as well as with what Spanx selection was offered in the lingerie section of your local department store). Hindsight is realizing something after it has already occurred. Perfect example, my forty-year old neighbor who used to wear leggings every day was mortified when she finally picked up a copy of Vogue (presumably left by some meritorious and thoughtful neighbor. Perhaps a member of a neighborhood style watch I was unaware of). In hindsight she realized that not only were leggings no longer in style but neither was her Victoria Beckham haircut. All in all it was a bad day for Mrs. Ritzger, but thats an entirely different story. My story revolves around my ex-boyfriend, an alpaca and a graduate program.
A few years ago, amusingly enough when Mrs. Rizger’s leggings were in style, I was dating a truly decent guy. The relationship ended pretty miserably, a story I won’t go into, sufficient to say I learned that chocolate chip cookie dough is my favorite type of ice cream. Its not a state secret. Anyone could have learned that flavor was my favorite should they have counted the ice cream pint containers in my recycling bin those first few weeks. The relationships that end with confusing breakups are always the worst. You’ve seen, heard about or experienced them. The “need some time apart” morphing into “not the right time” lapsing into “I’m too busy for a relationship” breakup line. I know. Confusing, right? Singularly each of these break-up lines are understandable but when mixed together like some kind of complex breakup cocktail it becomes downright disorienting. Perhaps that confusion was what led me to my next move.
A month after the breakup I phoned my best friend and asked if I could stay there for a while to emotionally regroup and, lets face it, get sloshed in a variety of pubs and whine about the cruelties of the world, my breakup and Star Wars vs. Star Trek (it was excusable, one could hardly expect intellectual conversation at a time like that in my life). The problem wasn’t the liquor though, luckily I never had to pick up the tab, it was the fact that the best friend I’m referring to is a guy and the location of the pub where I was whining was in Toronto. I’m still not quite sure what the thought process behind that trip was, I just remember being vaguely out of it and wanting to get out of my house for awhile, suddenly I was in Canada.
Taking a “vacation” post-breakup is a lot like buying your dress two sizes too small and then vowing to go to the gym relentlessly until it fits. It seems like a good idea at the time, but its a bitch to deal with after you make the decision. Toronto and my friend (whom we shall call Mr. X) was great, so great in fact that I went to and from my home and back so many times I was starting to wonder if I even needed my passport anymore. The problem? I was avoiding my graduate program by not studying for my comprehensive exams, (the last test I needed to take to receive my degree) although I would bring books on the plane to read, I never read them. Months passed, seasons changed (highly noticeable when your traveling from Florida to Toronto) and eventually Mr. X and I began dating. Our relationship was a lot like the movie When Harry Met Sally, except for the scene at the end where they kiss on New Years Eve and the credits roll. Apparently only Meg Ryan gets happy endings. Mr. X was recovering from a six year relationship and I was recovering from my (measly in comparison) 7 month relationship. It was inevitable that we would have ended up together at a time like that in our lives. It might has well have been printed on my passport so I would have known ahead of time and saved myself a lot of trouble. Thats the thing about hindsight, there’s no warning. Its as though someone rang the fire alarm and everyone knows where the emergency exits are but you. If only you had some kind of advanced notice. Irritating isn’t it?
In hindsight I did not need to travel across the U.S to cry into a beer over my failed relationship. Also, I shouldn’t have put off my exam so long, particularly considering I aced it the second time I took it, meaning I could have graduated a lot sooner if it weren’t for my Canadian exploits. I also shouldn’t have fallen into a relationship with Mr. X. when, in hindsight, we both knew better. I’m incredibly fortunate that we’re still best friends. I guess if I could offer any form of advise it would be this; Pay close attention to your life each moment that you live it. I’m not saying you can escape not realizing mistakes until after you’ve made them, that would be like sitting a dieting woman inside Krispy Kreme and just giving her a glass of water. Eventually, that woman is going to dive over the counter for a glazed donut just as fast as your going to realize that you missed something that you should have caught in your own life. For myself its things like realizing that the confusing breakup might have had a reason for its mismatched meanings. Maybe there was something more there? However, I’m also the same woman that believed capri pants looked good on every woman no matter what her figure was. They don’t of course. Thats hindsight.
As for the alpaca I mentioned, thats a domesticated South American hoofed mammal, I saw one at the Strawberry Festival in Bowmanville, Ontario. No real connection there. I just wanted to see if you were paying attention. Attentiveness, as I’ve learned, is always important. It’s much more enjoyable to spend your life looking forward than always having to look back.
