Once upon a time…

When I was a young man, I was quite a cad. I had won the genetic lottery, for beginners. I was considered handsome, athletic, manly, etc., blah blah blah. For some reason, which I have yet to figure out, the girls fawned all over me. Additionally, I was above average intelligence, outgoing, personable, witty, funny, a good dancer, and I always had money because I worked hard and was good at what I did! And parents loved me because, outwardly, I was a reasonably safe person for their daughter, whomever that happened to be at the time! It made my life very…interesting, to say the least! Now, I had to tell you ALL of that, just so I could tell you this true story.

A long time ago, there was a girl named Mona. She was 5’6″ tall, weighed 120 pounds, had the most beautiful blue eyes, the happiest smile I’ve ever seen to date, strawberry blonde hair that was naturally curly, the cutest freckles ever, and adorable dimples! She had narrow hips, excellent muscular definement commonly called a runners body, and the most perfect breasts I had ever seen, a C cup, bordering on a D. In addition, Mona was intelligent and successful in her own right! She was the manager of a prestigious hotel with a bright future, at the ripe old age of 25! That girl had EVERYTHING going for her! She was, and remains to this day, the most perfect human I’ve ever known.

I think the night that I met Mona was probably the night I fell in love with her, and her with me it would seem. It was literally one of those things you would expect Hollywood to write, except without all of those pesky twists and turns! There was this problem though…

See…I dont hold out any fantasies about who I am as a person. Oh, dont get me wrong. I’m a good person, and I’m a good man. But I’m far from perfect. Mona was not far from perfect. Like I said, she was as close to perfect as I have ever met. And for some reason, she felt the same way about me! But she was wrong about me. And I was right about her.

I knew that if I stayed with Mona, I would corrupt that perfectness she had about her. And I could not, would not, allow myself to do that to her. So, I devised a plan of how to rid Mona of myself, and hopefully strengthen her in the process!

I knew that I had to let go of Mona. And I knew that my explanations, my reasoning for doing so, would fall on deaf ears. I knew she wouldn’t buy the story, and would begin to internalize our situation, and eventually assign blame to herself, erroneously, for being at fault for my breaking it off with her. So, I did the only thing I could do; I became the bad guy.

Now, I know what you’re thinking. In being the bad guy, I caused damage to this perfect person. Damage? Maybe. But I believed then, and still believe today, that the hurt I caused didnt damage, but rather strengthened Mona in a way that she really needed. I could be wrong…but I’m not.

So, I became the bad guy. 3 weeks later, I walked away from a sobbing, furious Mona. A year later, she married a really good guy, the hotel chains attorney. Last I checked, she has a perfect life, 4 kids that all seem wonderful, still married to the same guy, has traveled the world extensively, and is an upper level executive for the same hotel chain!

She would not have had that life with me. I told that story to my dad after my first divorce, one night when I had too much to drink. He told me “Sometimes you have to be the bad guy, son, to do the right thing!” That’s true.

Since then, I’ve had 5 more occasions in my life where I had to plan out my demise in a relationship, to strengthen another person, and do the right thing by removing myself from their life…for their own good.

Because of that, there are 6 people that I know of in this world that hold me in very low regard as a person. I earned that with them.

But those six lives will always be better for me being the bad guy. It’s something that my shoulders could bear, where theirs could not.