It has been a weird week.

I feel a bunch of things. Which in and of itself is weird, because you’re not really supposed to notice yourself feeling things. It’s just supposed to be happen.

I could lie and say I knew it was coming. If I tried to do that, you’d see right through me like a white shirt in a wet t-shirt contest. I didn’t see it coming, although maybe I should have.

Tuesday opened my eyes. It is not a lie to say I thought about the moment when it would happen. Because it would have been foolish to think I could go through the rest of my life without it happening. That’s what I wanted though.

I set up my trade show booth on Tuesday, with my direct competitor across the aisle from me. That direct competitor being my former employer. To say I have conflicted feelings about my former employer would be an understatement in the highest regard. It is unlikely that I will resolve the struggle within me about how it came to pass that I went from there to here.

There is a part of me, a very large part of me in fact, that wishes I could just hate him. That would be the easy way to deal with my emotions. Just let it be a smoldering, unquenched fire that burns in my belly. At least if I knew that’s what I felt then I could make a peace with it. But that isn’t true, so I don’t get the comfort.

While I knew beforehand that my direct competitor was going to be across the aisle from me, I was not prepared for the reality of the man who was my former employer, standing within that opposing booth. I hadn’t steeled myself for that. So when I saw him walking towards me, from the massive glass wall that framed the end of the trade show floor, my stomach gave a Herculean lurch that I almost wish hadn’t remained contained.

It was weird. Just plain, damn weird. I would like to use the word surreal, but that doesn’t really apply here. It just happened, and then it was gone. Which brings me to my earlier point about hating. At least if I just hated the man, then I’d have that with which I would have to live. But I don’t. I’ve tried to hate. I’ve tried hard. But I can’t hold it. It just won’t fit.

I’ve forgiven him. It would be easier to live my life if I didn’t but I’ve already done that. Which leaves me with the question why. But at the end of the day I don’t even need to know that. When he was standing there in front of me, smiling that open, free from pretension smile, I couldn’t help but admit that I’d let go any animosity about what happened.

Which moves us to Friday. On this august occasion I would be attending my very first Blades game as a patron, and not an employee in the building.

It was just plain, damn weird.
If I had to make an analogy that would explain what it felt like, I think it would be something like this:

Imagine what it would be like to be a baboon that was born into captivity. Your whole life you were in the cage, knew the cage, and never imagined you would ever be free of that cage. Then one day, when you didn’t expect it, after years and years on the inside, you were taken by the hand, led outside the walls, then left on your own. Imagine the shock and the wonder of being outside the bars. Imagine the sense of loneliness of not having those bars are your friend. It was like they kept you from your desire now, when it was before that it was supposed to be inhibiting.

It would have been surreal, if I hadn’t known all along that it was the truth. It hard to pretend it’s a dream (nightmare) when you’ve already pinched yourself to be sure its true.

So I walked around the building in the middle of an intermission. Not because I had to take something somewhere, but because the event was paused and I needed something to do. It kind of felt forced too. Like we all wanted it to be fun, but our real hope was that somehow we’d be let passed the steel bike rack and back to our home.

The velvet robe (steel bike rack) seems to change everything. When you’re on the inside, its like you’re part of something. It breaks down walls that otherwise exist. It changes the landscape.

The Blades won 3-2. I watched the game and cheered, enjoying the experience. But at the same time my heart lamented for something that was lost. I won’t feel the same about Credit Union Center anymore. I won’t call it regret. The real feeling will be somewhere between a lament and a longing.

Good bye old friend. Though we’ll still see each other from time to time, the bitter sting of a divorce will forever taint my heart.