Barefoot and Pregnant?

The Main Street in Corsonico, Italy. (picture)

I opened my yahoo email today and found that the guy I dated while in Italy, Micheli, has a pregnant wife. I knew that they were married and in Italy it seems that pregnancy follows shortly behind the “I do’s” but I never expected this. I don’t know why it is finally made real for me that he is not waiting around for me to return (not that I was ever going to) that she is walking around in the kitchen I cooked in, sleeping in the bed that was mine for so long, driving in his little Fiat down the hill to Viareggio…It isn’t as if I would like to be with him, I would just rather he was not with anyone else.

I know that I am not the only person that feels this way about ex’s, but I do not understand the selfishness that comes post-relationship. If you have chosen not to be with a person disregarding previous feelings and interactions, then why is it necessary to begrudge them other relationships?

Micheli is a special case for me, I suppose. He saved me in a time of desperateness. When I had no friends, living in a small town in a crazy house, feeling like I wouldn’t make it through my time in Italy, he came along with his broken English and house of refuge. He taught me things that only those 10+ years your senior can…he took me to beautiful places and let me see Italy through the eyes of a native. I learned my Italian from him, bad words and all. He didn’t mind that I was a crazy American girl, he liked that I would drink in a bar with him, he loved that his friends all thought I was adorable. He loved me, and not just because I was different from what he was used to, but because I was me. I was lucky to find him and when he asked me to stay with him in Italy, I seriously considered it. I had said all along to my friends that he was only there for the purpose of having someone to hang out with, that I wasn’t sure I loved him, etc…but looking back, I just might have in some way. I said those things to keep from getting hurt, but I loved him for making me laugh and keeping me safe. I almost stayed, the idea of being in Italy almost keptme there. I am convinced that if I had it would be me that was married and pregnant right now and that thought doesn’t necessarily disgust me as I might think it would. In the end it was my friends and family that brought me back to the States, but I think about how different my life would be if that was not the case. I can imagine my life as an Italian man’s wife, living in his house in Corsonico, going to the market, perhaps finding a job in Viareggio…married and done at 24, deciding to live in a foreign country all of my life. Perhaps I could not have done it. Maybe I could have. I will never know…but what I do know is that I don’t like that someone is living the life that I could have had, and so quickly after my departure.

Maybe I don’t like that someone can be so in love with you and then replace you when it doesn’t work out. Maybe I’m just selfish and want to have my cake and eat it too.

Kind of hard to dream about “what could have been” when the option is no longer there…






Italian phrase of the post:
I do not want to get married
“non voglio prendere sposato”

Bonus:
Stay away from my man
"stare lontano dal mio uomo"