Thanks to a boy I had a bittersweet introduction to lovely New Hampshire this autumn. Between the boy and the environs, well, this city girl was considering the rural life.
It was just so beautiful. Peaceful. Bucolic. And him.
“How could anyone have ever let you go?” he said.
On the way back from my first fairy tale trip north I stopped at a diner, Farmer’s Kitchen. My meal was delicious and the other customers made me feel so welcome. Sharing the counter with the local regulars was such fun! They recognized an outsider and rather than ignore me, one by one, they drew me into their circle. By the end of the meal it felt like breaking bread with old friends.
Is this New England or the Mid-West? I sure don’t get this treatment in Boston. New Hampshire was beginning to feel like a place I could call home.
Further down the road I spotted a “sign”…Motor City Automotive Group! Motor City?! Again, where was I?
I couldn’t have been more taken in by it all: the boy, the enthralling beauty of the place, not to mention my new “best friends.” I started considering drastic changes.
On what would be my last New Hampshire trip he took me out to breakfast, back at Farmer’s Market, and again it was fun, but in a different way. We discussed plans for a property he is renovating, and how we would spend the next day and a half together. Such promise.
But, it was a case of too good to be true.
He let me go.
It turned out the cohort at Farmer’s Kitchen were nicer than the boy.
He let me go. Why? It hardly seems possible, but he lost it when I informed him that I am Facebook friends with guys I dated in high school. He couldn’t believe that I had no romantic intentions toward these men. After 30+ years.
Needless to say, it got ugly.
It was shocking. A true Jekyll and Hyde moment fueled by insecurity, jealousy and suspicion, as completely baseless and illogical as it could be. I was glad it happened on the phone.
My friends say I dodged a bullet. I know it’s true, better sooner than later and all that.
Still, it’s hard to reconcile a romance with a nasty implosion. Oh well. My rustic idyll was just that, a brief moment in time.
Of course hindsight reveals cracks in the façade, so easy to ignore when things were going well.
The boy wasn’t The One. The One will be secure and kind, with an open mind and heart…a man.
And you know, there’s still New Hampshire…I’ll just go back and make new memories, right?
(See more of New Hampshire under Picture It.)