I believe in signs. I always have.
The first time I went to Red Rocks to see Lyle Lovett a million years ago, my ex-boyfriend couldn’t make it to the show after we had purchased a summer’s worth of concert tickets together – and he suggested I invite a friend of his instead.
As I remember it, I thought to myself, “Message received.” I had been feeling like he wasn’t as interested in me as he once was and his suggestion seemed like the sign I needed. That he was trying to let me down in the nicest way possible by suggesting that I take a friend of his that he had just introduced me to.
I married that friend of his less than six months later.