Letting go of Zach

[Guest guest]

Hello everyone:

Zach, my ex and I met last night to settle the terms of our divorce.

It's not a divorce in the eyes of the law, but in my heart, I know

that I'm hurting.

Last night was actually pleasant. Dare I say that we had a good

time? There were so many times during the night that my memories

were stirred—the memories of 11 years together.

We met a 1 Post Street, across the street from Crocker Galleria.

That address is Zach's old office. Just like he no longer works

there, we are no longer a couple. We saw each other from across the

street, and there was an awkward hello, each of us not knowing

whether to shake hands or hug. So we did neither.

We walked to Kearny to catch the 15 to North Beach, but there was a

water main break, and the traffic was a mess. We waited and waited.

Zach, a native of Taiwan, said, " There's the Orient Express, " making

reference to the 30 line that goes right through the heart of China

Town. I laughed, " Did you make up that name? " He said, " No, all my

native San Franciscan co-workers know it by that name. "

After another 15 minutes with traffic even more snarled, we got on

an " Orient Express " and got off at Columbus and Stockton, where China

Town meets Little Italy. We crossed Columbus to catch the 15, but

right behind us was " Z. Cioccolato—the Sweetest Place in North

Beach. " By this time, Zach and I were more at ease, the conversation

flowing between us easily. I noticed that our senses of humor were

still in synch, and we still knew just how to make the other laugh.

That collection of 11 years of shared experiences—that deep

connection—is, I now realize, what I miss the most. I miss that

unspoken understanding that couples develop, the shared language that

only those two share.

We entered Z. Cioccolato and the woman who, two nights prior, had

helped me pick out and wrap Chip's gift (the white chocolate chip

macadamia nut fudge) recognized me. I said to her, " He loved the

fudge. " She said, " I enjoyed wrapping it! The chocolate lips in the

bow was a great suggestion. " By this time, Zach was looking at the

display of some 30-odd different types of fudge, and at Z.

Cioccolato, they let you sample before you buy. He bought vanilla,

maple and tiger band (caramel, vanilla, chocolate and peanut

butter). It was actually like old times, shopping together, talking

and laughing.

When we finally got to my place, I had my dinner while Zach watched a

tape of Saturday Night Live and spent time petting and playing with

our kitty, Nandito. He spoke softly and tenderly to Nandito in

Chinese, all that loving, little baby talk that I hadn't heard in

such a long time. He called him by his Chinese name, Xiao Lao Hu—

Little Tiger. And then I heard him say in English, " Daddy misses

you. Do you miss Daddy? " I could see from where I was that Nandito

was resting his head on Zach's thigh, looking up at him. " You

haven't forgotten me, have you, Xiao Lao Hu? " I could hear Nandito

purring the loud and rumbling purr of a happy cat.

Eva Longoria was the host of Saturday Night Live, and here's where

our new, separate lives came into the picture. Zach

watches " Desperate Housewives. " I've never seen the show, and I

didn't know that he watches it.

Nandito decided to use the litter box for number two. I

said, " That's his new trick. He waits until I come home to do that.

It never fails. He must hold it all day. " Just then, as the

Littermaid Litterbox started making its noises to clean itself, Eva

Longoria was doing a fake commercial, talking about a joke product

called " Firmium, the best diarrhea medicine in Hollywood. " She

talked about how, as a Hollywood Star, it was important not to " let

your fudgy hostages free " and the difficulties with " chocolate

drizzles. " By this time, Zach and I were laughing hard.

Nandito had just stunk up the place, and here was this beautiful

woman on TV joking about diarrhea. She was trying not to laugh as

the audience went wild with laughter. Then she said, " During almost

the entire first season of Desperate Housewives, I was human espresso

machine. " And she went on the say that it's difficult to do a sexy

love scene when you're afraid of releasing your chocolate submarines.

We were laughing so hard that Zach had to get out his inhaler.

I dropped Zach off in Japantown, one our old haunts. As I watched

him cross the street in my rearview mirror, I wondered, " Will he be

having dinner at Osakaya? Will he be eating alone? " And then I

couldn't see him anymore, and I was jolted back into the

present. " It's none of my business anymore, " I said to myself as I

drove off.

I was glad to know that Zach is doing well, that he's managed quite

well without me. As the former care-taker, people pleaser that I had

always been, I was riddled with guilt when I had finally broke things

off. I worried about how he would make it without me. I worried

about how I would make it without him. We've both come out the other

end of all that pain and suffering still liking each other, but

knowing that our lives needed to go in different directions.

I still love him, and I always will in a way. I wish him the best,

and I'm glad that, while painful, the truth is that we are better

apart. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for someone is to

let them go.

I really need to go for a run to clear my head.

Thanks for reading.

Francisco