Tonight I went to Dave’s Sushi with my husband and daughter. We went back and forth about Dave’s versus Hooked, but landed on Dave’s because they have better kid options for Inge (and by that I mean, simply, mango).  On the way to the restaurant I was thinking aloud about the phrase “golden handcuffs.”  Jimmy and I were discussing that people say it to mean something that is too good to walk away from, like a job that pays exorbitantly (we’re looking at you, Kaiser).  I said that what comes to my mind when I think of that phrase is the inexplicable need to break free of something wonderful.  And it called to mind the week I started medical school: within one week of my life I had started on the 8 year track to becoming a doctor and became engaged to someone I loved.  Both of these things were exactly what I wanted— they were golden.  And both made me feel shackled.  I felt I was being trapped by the two things I had desired most in the world up to that point, and subsequently had the urgent need to be free.  Which unsurprisingly wasn’t a great setup for the way I approached school or marriage.  I shared this sentiment with Jimmy as we were walking.  When we got to the front door of Daves Sushi I had the overwhelming feeling they were going to seat us next to Joe and that I would have to ask the waitress to put us somewhere else.  This weird scenario flashed in my mind like a daydream of sorts.  I don’t know what made me think of this (probably the conversation we were having on the way to the restaurant, actually), but I felt relieved that Dave’s was really very empty, and we were seated in our own little corner of the place.  Fast forward 20 minutes.  I look up and there is Joe standing 2 feet from me.  So I quietly say hello, and lo-and-behold he and the woman he is with are seated right next to us.  Like sharing a bench close.  We all could have held hands and sang kumbya (without moving an inch to make it happen). I thought I would say something funny to lighten the awkwardness, but he never made eye contact and it was clear to me that he wasn’t going to.  Or did I not make eye contact? I honestly don’t know who was ignoring who, but it was really dumb.

I cannot begin to describe how this made me feel.  Mostly sick to my stomach.  I think, for me, there is something so depressing about being lovers and strangers with the same person, in the same lifetime.  In that order.   Breaking up with Joe was really fucking hard. It was like quitting a drug. And eventually we went cold turkey.