Is it ever a good idea to reach out to someone from your past? Every time I walk, or drive, by a certain restaurant, I recall a date years ago. It was when the world was starting to feel off, right before life shut down for the pandemic. On this particular evening, I was with a really great guy who I had been lightly seeing. Meaning, we would plan dates somewhat regularly, but there had been no talk of exclusivity. We met in yoga, years before, and he was THAT guy. The one who you are always aware of his presence in class. Nice. Charismatic. And in incredible shape. As he was typically late to class, there would always be that pleasant surprise when he rushed in. One night, at the end of class, we started talking. By the time I had gotten home, he had messaged me on Instagram. Yep, yoga guy slid into my DMs. (This was two years before the date, at the restaurant, that started this story, btw.)

His message: Hey. Let’s grab a glass of wine. I would like to continue the conversation. 🙂

My message: Sounds great! When?

Him: Anytime. Are you still around (the neighborhood where we practiced yoga)?

Me: I’m home. In (my neighborhood)- so not too far. But I do need to change!! 🙂

Him: Well then, how about a spontaneous dinner at 7? Any interest in sushi? I have a bit of a craving for (he named THE best sushi restaurant in our city).

Me: That would be amazing. Do you want to pick me up or meet there?

Him: Ok, this is the plan. I will run home and change. And then lyft over to pick you up. Text me your address. 🙂

I love a guy who makes a plan. He picked me up and we went to sushi. The conversation, that he referenced continuing, was that I had just, the month before, moved out from living with someone. See https://notmyguys.com/the-letter/. The fact he already knew a bit about where I was, in my heart and in my head, made me comfortable that the stage had already been set. I felt like I could be authentic on our sushi date. And I do love spontaneity. Especially with yoga guy. He was deep and soulful, so when we talked, it made me teary. You know when you’re young and you’d fall and skin your knee? If no one saw, it was easier to get up and keep running. As soon as someone would be nice and check on me, I’d cry. That still holds true for today. I can typically keep composure, but when someone is truly kind, and demonstrates caring, the tears can fall easily. If he had just kind of laughed at my last couple months, I possibly could have too. I mean, who moves in with someone and out within two months? But he could feel the heaviness that I was still carrying, and all I wanted to do was cry. So it wasn’t a super sparkly dinner, and it wasn’t the most auspicious beginning to a relationship. But it was nice. After that, we texted a bit, but then it kind of fizzled. My heart was still somewhere else, and it was obvious.

Fast forward a year or so, and we reconnected. We had fun dates, like meeting up at a music festival and going to concerts. Even when we decided to just cook at home, he showed up with the makings for an entire chef’s board, with products from a specialty market. He was, and likely still is, a really great guy. I just never felt very authentically excited about him. It felt like forcing a connection, where I tried to convince myself that this was amazing, but it never felt quite right. He was in total boyfriend mode, and I was not feeling the same.

Well, on what ended up being our final date, at the aforementioned restaurant, I was not a great dinner companion. My phone was blowing up with texts about school shutting down, so the planned class trip was getting canceled. But also, my phone started blowing up with texts from someone else, who I had not heard from in months. So here, in real life, next to me, was this great guy, but on my phone was who I wanted to be with. Needless to say, I was totally distracted. And it was rude. If I could go back to that night, I would like to think I would have put my phone away at dinner. But honestly, with all the frenzy surrounding the world shutting down, that is still not likely. I think he kind of understood, as he has kids, and anything with your kids takes priority. But I would like to think that now, knowing what I know about the someone else and how that played out, I would have ignored those messages until later, or ideally, indefinitely. But I didn’t. Yes, rude.

After dinner, we went back to my place and watched a movie. I was still preoccupied and distracted, and was really just wanting him to leave. He eventually did, and that is the last time we spoke. Nothing ever said about not seeing each other anymore, it just ended. But the other day, walking by that restaurant, I envisioned reaching out and just apologizing. Saying I was sorry for not being a better date. More present. More engaged. What he deserves. But he, having high self-worth, knows all that, and that is why I never heard from him again. So what purpose would an apology serve? And when is an apology for you and when is it for someone else? I have received those kind of messages through the years. Someone apologizing, in order to achieve their own sense of closure. While it’s been kind of nice to receive those messages, it also feels…self-serving, maybe? If I have moved on, I haven’t loved the reminders of what was. So what am I trying to gain by reaching out? To demonstrate how evolved I now am? Maybe. But would a truly evolved person reach out? I still don’t know the answer. But I have decided that, if our paths cross, I will take that as a sign to apologize. And, I really hope they do. XO