I invited Sandi to meet us on Saturday, the day after the bar mitzvah, for brunch in Westchester before my brother and I and our sons headed to New York to see The Drowsy Chaperone. Sandi met us at the very café where we had first collided. Our time was limited and awkward. Still, I hoped she’d realize the significance of the brunch; Sandi is the only woman, other than my ex-wife, to ever meet my brother. For her to meet my son and nephew at the same time, well, that made the bar mitzvah weekend truly special. If only I could have pulled a Tony and Carmela, and gotten Sandi in a swimming pool for a late-night kiss-and-make-up dip.No. 3: Facing the ReplacementThe Sandi cycle ended when she called me at 9 a.m. on a Saturday, the day we were to hear Brazilian music at a club. She said her life was too complex; she had to end our relationship.“You’re a great catch for somebody,” she said.“But you’ve already caught me,” I protested.Later in the conversation she said, “I’m replaceable.” It was the saddest comment a woman has told me about herself. Eighteen months later I learned the truth was that I was replaceable, not her.After the raptor bared her claws one last time, I wondered about my replacement. Sandi admitted she already knew him when she had me over for Thanksgiving. My mind spun wildly. Was he tall, rich, worldly, maybe a Richie Aprile–style psycho with the edge and drama I lacked?Tony’s replacement moment came after he discovered Irina, a discarded girlfriend, dating his politician friend, Ron. Enraged, Tony hunted them down and beat the tar out of Ron with his belt. In the Van version, thoughts of Sandi and the new guy boiled over in a Krav Maga Israeli martial arts class I take. I told my sparring partner I envisioned them together. He picked up on my anger and encouraged me to attack. “That’s it! Now you’re hitting!” he shouted as I pounded uppercuts into a padded shield he held.When I calmed down, I asked myself, “Who was the real target? Another man who happened to appeal to Sandi more than I did, or my own foolish quest?” I made my own choices here. I loved and lost, and I volunteered for every minute of the Sandi experience. I fell victim only to my own infatuation and wishful thinking. If I want to lash out, I should aim at the internal demons that make Sandis so emotionally appealing. Tony dreams of ducks; I long for wounded swans that vanish in the distance with never a glance back at me.I really should call Dr. Melfi, just like Tony says. Maybe she’s Jewish.