In a Neighborly Way

Two years ago when I still lived in my lovely little townhouse out in the country, I had a wonderful neighbor named Bob. He was a quiet sort of guy, smart and funny with small town good looks and a winning smile. He was the kind of guy you just knew was the real deal. He didn't smoke, he rarely drank, he went to church and he always lent a hand when a hand was needed, from digging out my car in the wintertime to playing cat's cradle with KC on our front porch for no other reason than to be kind.

And summer nights, nights when you left the windows open to let the cool air in, you could hear him playing his guitar, his voice hesitant on the notes but singing along anyway. I used to joke that Bob and I were practically sleeping together, sharing opposite sites of the same bedroom wall. And secretly, at least I hoped it was secret at that point, I had quite the little crush on him.

The more I got to know him the more I knew that he was the right kind of guy... Seeing me upset one night, close to tears and heading for my car, he didn't hesitate for even one second to see if there was anything he could do to help. I remember him standing there looking directly into my eyes and asking me if everything was okay, and I knew as I still know now, that had I broken down and told him the truth of everything that was wrong, he would have sat me down and sorted out a solution with me. Instead I did the stupid prideful thing and told him I was okay, leaving him behind in our driveway as I drove away.

And when it became common knowledge that after close to ten years, I was taking the plunge and moving out, it wasn't just my neighbor Sheila who tried to talk sense into me about leaving.

So tonight, when I saw his profile online with a local dating site, yeah, I couldn't help but wonder what if? What if the guy for me was as close as the other side of a wall the entire time? And what's stopping me from finding out? After all, it couldn't hurt just to stop by and say hello...