Return of the prodigal son

A few yesterdays ago, this occasional blogger, found herself blowing out one extra candle on the cupcake of her life. The night began like all legendary nights, with my arms linked with the arms of two fabulous ladies. New York City, Zac Posen, Oscar De La Renta, Manolo Blahnik, Jimmy Choo, Louis Vuitton, Ralph Lauren, Christian Louboutin and four fabulous ladies later we found ourselves in a downtown bar sipping on our own version of the Cosmo.

As the night wore on friends and lovers who have shared in other candle blowing moments dropped by to share a laugh and a little of their love. The downtown bar, hip as it was, was soon forgotten for more lavish settings. A few more drinks, a few more loved ones and a few more Justin Timberlake soaked dances.........and he appeared. The one who had occupied my time, and more importantly my mind through the past year in the flesh, in all his glory. A smile, a soft kiss and a "happy birthday, gorgeous" later, this lady found her knees bending, her heart flipping and her soul swooning for more.

Slowly, or not so slowly, working through the table of designated birthday drinks, this lover found herself spinning, dancing, giggling and affectionate. Before sense or sensibility could prevail our arms were linked, bodies together, dancing, lost in one anothers eyes, lips, cheeks. Hands linked we said our polite goodbyes to the dancing hoards and ventured out into the crisp, cool winter night. Both of us too afraid to say a word, too afraid to spoil the moment, walked side by side occasionally stopping to share a kiss, share our breath, share our souls.

A quick swipe of the credit card, a few grabs, pulls and cheeky little words and we found ourselves in the exact same position we were in last year. Only this time, each of us vowing to keep ourselves from making the same mistakes, the same stupid decisions that kept us apart. A years worth of memories and adventures kept us going until the hoots and grunts of the world below us got louder signalling that perhaps it was time for us to join them.

In many ways, the prodigal son, is the epitome of "Manhattan Boy" who is paraded around to the friends and loved ones as an ideal soul mate. He is the knee-bending, soul swooning, mirror to my ways. The apotheosis of a son-in-law and further attractive with his puzzled looks when something like Langerhans cell histiocytosis is mentioned. And yet, I can't help but wonder, do we fall into this because we somewhat fill each others perception of an ideal partner?

This is the first time where I feel as if I don't have to fight for something. And it makes absolutely no sense as the union is filled with passion and wanting and the promise of things to come, but a little nagging voice on the inside keeps telling me that I am settling simply because I should be happy with the return of the prodigal son.

Fortunately I don't have all the answers, but I do have time with its infinitely wise answers. But for the time being, I feel as if we are occupying the right part of the universe.