The heater was working, and yet I was shivering. The temperature inside the car seemed colder than outside on that Christmas Eve. He looked over at me and simply asked: “Just like that?” I couldn’t believe my ears. I thought to myself: What a stupid thing to say. It was then that I absolutely realized what should have been obvious all along…that he was waiting for me to make the first move, and finally end whatever it was that we had. The coward.

I had sensed him inching away from me a few weeks before. Something seemed to be “off”, but I would not allow myself to entertain such feelings for longer than an instant. I was so in love, or so I thought, that the idea of us breaking up was way too much for my 18 year old mind to wrap itself around. So, I ignored the signs; The many weekends apart when he had to “help his father around the house”, the dates that were cut short because he had to study for architectural school, the knowing looks from his friends, the subtle warnings from my mother. Even my grandmother wasn’t sure about him, and she liked everybody. He would arrive late for events and then leave early, always with a reasonable excuse, at least in my opinion. Five years older than I, he had been in the service, owned a little blue French sports car, and charmed everyone he came in contact with. Especially me, knocking me off my feet. Thinking back, was it only fascination…or a genuine romance?

We worked for the same company, him on the 4th floor, me on the 10th. Saw each other nearly everyday, meeting in front of the building, lunches together, going for walks downtown, dating after work…on weeknights, of course. He taught me how to drive, bestowed gifts upon me, took pictures of me, and held me in his arms for hours. Even drew up plans for the home he would build for the two of us when he became an architect. I couldn’t believe how lucky in love I was!

I recall the night when he needed to leave a party before it was over. Was it ok with me? I understood, of course, and as we kissed in the doorway, he had an odd look on his face, and while holding me at arms length, blurted out“I think I’m falling in love with you.” His words said one thing, but his eyes, something else. Something I couldn’t quite see clearly enough. He seemed divided, almost being of two minds. But, I quickly dismissed what was there, ignoring my inner voice, and convincing myself that he was simply in a hurry, nothing more. I could focus only on those beautiful words that echoed in my head over and over again, like a boulder falling into a canyon… “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

The grapevine can strangle, choke, take one’s breath away. Someone thought she had spotted him with another girl. Someone else heard him imply something about another girl. My mother spoke to his sister and she inadvertently (?) mentioned the name of another girl.Another girl? Things quickly began to fall into place in my head, whether I wanted them to or not. Theories now made sense, and questions now had answers. I knew it was true, there was another girl. I could almost literally feel my young, naive, immature heart starting to fracture. Nothing really changed for him; but for me it seemed as if my life was beginning to crumble. We went to the movies a few days later, and afterwards I tried to bring the difficult subject up, but chickened out. The car radio was playing, and Steve Lawrence’s voice crooned “Go Away Little Girl”. I thought, how ironic, blinking back one small tear. But he just smiled, hugged me, and gave me a stuffed animal. Kiss the boo-boo and make it all better. But it didn’t get any better. I now knew that I had to make the first move because the choice was no longer his…it was clearly mine. I had to bite the bullet and follow through, no matter how painful. Not only is breaking up hard to do, so is growing up.

And so there we were, on Christmas Eve, sitting in his car, each holding gaily wrapped packages. I gave him his present first, a gold cigarette lighter that I had ordered months before, and which was engraved with his initials. I don’t know what he had for me, because I didn’t accept it, handing the unopened box back as I told him that it was over. I had made the decision for him, and although it was probably what he wanted, certainly what needed to be done, somehow he didn’t expect the declaration in quite that way, on that night. His response was not the three little words most of us wish to hear. He paused, and slowly, deliberately, turned to me and said, “Just like that?” If my throat hadn’t been so constricted, I might have laughed, or even cried. But I only replied: “Yes, just like that.” Sure, I wanted him to beg me to take him back, saying that it was all a big mistake, and that he loved only me. And yet simultaneously, there was my own inner voice whispering: once a cheat, always a cheat. There was that deafening silence, and then I got out of his car and calmly walked into the house. He continued to sit out there for what seemed like an eternity, and then finally drove away, most likely to be with “another girl”.

That, however, was not the “Aha Moment” for me. Although I knew in my head that I had made the right decision, my heart was reeling. I was devastated, my spirit seemed crushed. Feeling all alone on the planet, I found it incredibly difficult to go from day to day and function like before. In my young, confused state of mind I was convinced that no one had ever suffered in this way. Emptiness was beginning to take root deep inside my very soul. It seemed as if someone close to me had died, and here I was going through the motions following a funeral. What I didn’t realize at the time was that, along with the relationship, a part of me had died as well. (I also couldn’t have understood that that was ok.) I had no appetite, and although it was Winter, I hid behind sunglasses concealing red, puffy eyes. I chose to be alone as much as possible, trying to avoid those unrelenting sympathetic looks from family and friends. My parents were so angry with him that my father drove to his house that very night and returned their own Christmas gifts by depositing them on his front porch. When Dad came back home, he slowly walked upstairs to my room and held me close while I wept a river of tears; no words were necessary. A few days later, as I waited in the family car for my mother to pick up the dry-cleaning, the radio played a song called: “The End of the World”. I’ll always remember those lyrics: “I can’t understand, no I can’t understand, how Life goes on the way it does. Why does my heart go on beating? Why do these eyes of mine cry? Don’t they know it’s the end of the world? It ended when you said goodbye.” As she got behind the steering wheel, mom saw the state that I was in and became furious, not so much with her daughter, but with the whole state of affairs. Later that day, unbeknownst to me, she threw any and all reminders of him into the garbage and burned the photos. It was her way of dealing with a situation that was beyond her control. This was something that hadn’t happened before, and she was adamant, would never happen again… certainly not to one of her children.

I suppose the word to describe the person I had become would be “jaded”; spent, fed up. I became suspicious, not trusting – of anyone, including myself. I was like a dog that was afraid to reach for the treat because it might get yelled at and slink away with the tail between its legs. My perception of love was that it’s like rain…it either turns to ice, or disappears altogether. I was deeply wounded, and convinced that I would never heal. Returning to work, I held my breath each time the elevator stopped at the 4th floor. And then one afternoon, at the end of my workday, there he was, in front of the building with his now fiancée, holding the door open to the little blue French sports car. However, instead of falling apart, I was jolted into reality. Perhaps this was when I had my epiphany, I’m not exactly sure. I do believe, however, that this surely was the commencement of many eye-opening instances which occurred over a period of time, and which helped shape and mold the essence of the person I was meant to be. The most important lesson learned by my experience was that this insecure, beaten-down, little girl finally realized that she was worth something, and needed to get out there again. To quote from a verse written by Amanda McBroom: “It’s the heart afraid of breaking that never learns to dance. It’s the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance.” Somehow I knew that I needed to be my own person and move on, hopefully stronger and wiser. I helplessly watched as friends and family made life-altering choices while losing themselves in the name of love. I could only pray that they would learn from their mistakes as I had from mine.

Two years later, in Spring, when I met the person who would become my husband, my metamorphosis thankfully occurred. Maybe this was my real “Aha Moment”…that inner voice that lets you know this is the one? Still, there are no guarantees in life. How could I have known back then that it was necessary for part of me to die so that there could be a rebirth? The woman who now readily accepted an engagement ring was a far cry from that girl who thought it was the end of the world. And so, perhaps the following words can best describe my “Aha Moment”.

Again, I quote from Ms. McBroom:

“When the night has been too lonely, and the road has been too long.
And you think that love is only for the lucky and the strong.
Just remember in the Winter, far beneath the bitter snows,
Lies the seed, that with the sun’s love, in the Spring becomes the rose.”