A few years back, I met you in a club. You asked my name, I said Julie, you bought me a drink, we danced a bit. When the evening was coming to a close, you asked for my number and I jotted down ten digits on a napkin. I don’t know if you tried to call or not, but if you did, you certainly realized very quickly that no one named Julie picked up the phone. See, the number I have you was my home phone number about four apartments ago. I lied to you. I also lied about my name. It’s not Julie. I’m very sorry.
The thing is, shortly after I met you, I met another guy and I gave him my real name and number. He called, we went out, we (okay, I) fell in love. We were together for quite a long time – over three years. The relationship had its ups and downs, but the ups were quite exciting, so I stuck around for the downs. We talked about living together, marriage, children. Then one day, I discovered I was pregnant. And about three days later, Mr. Wonderful decided the whole thing wasn’t working out and left. Well, actually, it was uglier than that – restraining orders came into play, but we won’t linger on the details.
Now I have a son, who’s really great. But the rest of my life is not so great. I have this job I absolutely despise that I can’t really leave because of the on-site daycare. I have this two family house that I bought. It’s basically in the ghetto, and I can’t find someone even close to normal to rent out the other unit so I can barely pay my mortgage. Just this morning my son and I watched my cat chase a mouse across the floor then kill it. Now, perhaps this vivid example of the food chain in action was educational for my son. I can hope that there is some silver lining on this cloud. What it did illustrate for me was that a long time ago, I made a very bad decision. I went out to a club (okay, I went out to several clubs) and I was asked for my phone number and I gave the real phone number to the wrong man.
I’d like to make up for my past mistake. I hope your heart is big enough to forgive. Just to jog your memory, I’m tallish with red hair. What I lack in skill on the dance floor I make up for in enthusiasm. I don’t remember what I told you I did for a living – teacher, maybe, or pediatrician. I believe I said I lived in Oakville, although I sometimes said Burlington. Rarely did I say Toronto, which is where I lived at the time. Honestly, I was quite intoxicated, so I don’t remember quite what you looked like – I’m sure once we meet up it will all come back to me.
Hope to hear from you!