You two were all sex and philosophy...

My quarter life crisis hit in a relatively expectable way. It was early fall and I sat at my cubicle in an office that I had hoped to leave before the leaves had a chance to change their colors. The temptations of summer Fridays, a lax work load and the comfort of a weekly check deposited directly into my account were too much and here I sat as the temperature dropped as quickly as my determination. I was bored and therefore boring in the most exciting city in the world.

But this is what your 20s are all about, right? Finding who you are, shedding past skins and struggling to squeeze yourself into a new one that may be a size too small at first. Or maybe those are just my no longer size 4 jeans. I digress.

I went online searching. I wanted to be sure I wasn't the only one I knew going through this. The joy of the internet is that it puts classmates right at your fingertips. No need to wait for the reunion to outshine one another. I knew where the majority of my graduating class was, and weren't they primarily in the same boat as I was?

But then I googled Boy (see past posts for character reference) and all that changed.

Of course by 25 a handful of people I knew had begun to marry. In my few years as a New Yorker I had seen a couple weddings and even a birth. On Facebook I saw as classmates tied the knot and for the predictable reasons it made me feel old, but rarely off balance. When I googled Boy, I came across something that I could never have prepared myself for. There upon my screen, glaring at me, taunting, was Boy; my sexual first, my college addiction, the one who made me cry and taught me to heal; in his wedding photo.

At least 20 minutes must have past before I could tear my eyes away from the site. Like a gruesome car wreck I simply couldn't force myself to look away all the while knowing the nightmares I was condemning myself to by looking.

There he was with R, a girl that three years previously had embraced me enthusiastically at a bar, "I'm so happy to finally meet you! I have heard so much about you!" I had forced a smile. What could she possibly know about me. That I used to sleep with her boyfriend? That I had stayed devoted to him as he brushed me off time and again with fears of commitment and his inability to love? Did she know how we would see each other in secret because he didn't want to be in a relationship but he would start fights when other boys had the audacity to hit on me in front of him. "Why would he try to kiss you in front of me?" he reeled at my 21st birthday. "Because no one knows about you, your rule," I would sigh.

When I returned from London the second time, Boy and I met for coffee to catch up. I hoped he wouldn't kiss me. I was still in pain from leaving Ryan and too weak to fight off the temptation of Boy again. "I've started seeing someone," he told me and I relaxed. "I'm not really that into her but she's in law school with me and unfortunately once you sleep with one girl in class, the others all consider you off limit. Since I don't have time to meet anyone outside of class I suppose she'll have to do. I mean, she's cool enough..." What a lucky girl, I thought to myself, knowing Boy all too well to see this situation as one with a happy ending.

Three years later when I came across their beautiful wedding photo on a photographers site, I nearly became ill. I wrote to J frantic. Why was it that I was ok with the reality that I would probably never see Ry again and yet the mere idea that Boy and I would never again find ourselves naked between my sheets had me feverish? I had not even spoken to him in two years.

"You two were always all sex and philosophy," J replied. "That kind of strange chemical thing doesn't happen often."

I still have his number on my phone but I never contacted him. Instead I took J's words and created a blog. Then I quit my job in search of a new philosophy... and hopefully some sex while I'm at it.