The lesson of love took three years to cultivate…or was it forty three years?
It all started when Maria text me a picture of a guy she knew from work. “He’s really a great guy and great teacher! I’d like to introduce you!”
Maria and I had previously worked together at another school site and were separated by promotion and tragedy. She got the promotion, I got the tragedy. We remained good friends and kept in touch via instant message on the school website along with random text messages with the latest gossip of the people we once worked with.
As I waited for the picture message to appear, quick random thoughts raced through my mind as to what this “great guy” would look like.
I guess we’ve all been there at one time or another: a friend sells us their idea of the “perfect guy” but nine times out of ten you’re reminded of why you should never take love advice from a friend.
When the picture finally appeared, it had a yellowish tint to it. I’m not sure if it was an old picture of what he once looked like or just bad lighting. Either way, he was handsome.
I took the bait.
What I didn’t know about the “yes” at the time was that my relationship with John would unleash a lot of pent up pain and awaken the cries of my inner child.