Well not quite summer, but DAMN it was a hot one today. I'm actually sitting in my bedroom with the AC on right now, trying to escape the oppressive "reminder of what July will be like" that lingers throughout the rest of my apartment. (And also now quickly remembering how poorly this AC works...) Anyway, just as the humidity hangs here in silence, so does my cellphone. #2 is nowhere to be found. Which is great because it's not like I took off today to lie out and enjoy the weather and overanalyze things outside of the confines of my office...
(Well, thankgod I don't overanalyze like this...though interestingly enough, she may have a point)
During this much-needed break from my four-walled version of hell however, I did venture up to midtown to have lunch with a friend who told me that I was being way too hard on myself here. I hope very much so that she is correct and I can go back to hoping I'm really as wonderful as I think I am. I also got an email from my darling and insightful cousin saying very much the same thing plus one other point: men who have their shit together do not get scared. More right she could not be. Unfortunately, 2 doesn't have his shit together. He knows this, he's shared this with me, and now I'm beginning to REALLY get this as well. Does this stop me from feeling something for him? No. Does it make it slightly easier to handle his slighting? Yes.
Luckily, it also frees up my time to overanalyze other things. Like how Fate, mentioned yesterday, is a motherfucker. Oh, did I forget to mention this? Well, allow me to fill you in.
Sunday night, as we were "discussing" things on the street (where most rational and effective discussions take place...on the street...at 1AM...on a Sunday night...just ask the three angry black women who were on his corner threatening to cut someone...), the live band at the bar across the street began to play a song that EB played for me on his guitar on maybe our third or fourth date. It was a song I'd never heard before or since EB, and was so sweet and touching (he, naturally, learned it for a frat talent show) and in my mind is just so intricately tied into my mental image of EB that I immediately lost it. I was sobbing. 2 thought it was because of him and our talk, but it wasn't-- it was about so much more. "Why that song? Why now?" was all I could think. It could mean one of many things: was it playing at this exact moment to let me know that EB is actually The One and 2 is not? Was it playing at this exact moment to let me know that 2 is The One and EB never was? Was it playing at this exact moment to let me know that just like EB, 2 is also not The One? Was it just goddamn Fate, stopping by to smile smugly at my dilemma and twist the knife a little deeper? I didn't know. I still don't know.
However, Fate never lets up.
The next afternoon, after not hearing from EB since I messaged him for his birthday in December , I got an email-- OUT OF THE BLUE-- joking around about spotting one of my friends on a list for a party this Thursday night and wanting to know how I was doing. I wrote back saying that it was too funny to hear from him, as the night before I'd been walking by a bar (sometimes we all bend the truth) and heard that song playing, it made me think of him, I hope he's well. He wrote back, you guessed it, following up on December's mention of getting together.
At first I was uncertain if this is a good idea or not. I mean, when I say things were HORRIBLE between us at the very end, that's no exaggeration. We got in terrible, screaming fights. He blocked his doorway to keep me from storming out in anger. I even slapped him across the face at a crowded bar. These were not my finest hours; we'd gone from being madly in love to just plain mad. And yet, many, many times over the past year plus, I'd wondered where we went wrong/what I'd done wrong. I think on some level I've needed closure from EB since our last blowout. So, and don't be mad at me dear readers, I told him that this Sunday should work for a drink, we could be in touch as it got closer.
This response gives me an out. If 2 should call and we decide that yes, I will still accompany him to his event on Saturday night, then no, I will not see EB. We can reschedule for another time. If I never hear from 2 again then I'm free to guiltlessly meet up. I don't know what to expect. If he tells me he's engaged to someone else (by all accounts completely impossible [my dearest friends]) or in a serious relationship (who the hell would say that [my dearest friends again]), I'm not sure how I'll feel. Possibly not good, possibly quite bad. It could be like the SATC scene when Big tells Carrie he's engaged to Natasha and she gets up and leaves the restaurant. However, I see myself being much more of a schmuck and uttering some sort of fake congratulations and asking details whilst slowly drying up inside until I'm just a shriveled-up shell of myself sitting across from him. If EB tells me he wants to give "us" another go, I'd absolutely shoot it down. That window of opportunity has long since closed, and then been broken by a stray baseball from the neighborhood kids, boarded up, and then demolished along with the house it was in. My hope, unrealistic as I'm sure it may be, is that I get some sort of reassurance from him-- in whatever form it may come-- that it wasn't me all that time ago, that I was good and great and that it was him that needed more time and anyone else would be crazy to make the same mistake. Am I asking too much? Probably. But if you don't ask, you won't receive.
And after all of this ranting, I've taken a moment to pull up that song and have a solid listen. "Baby I really really love you now, I think you should stop your cryin'. Here's my kerchief to dry your eyes, you know that I love you." (Bonus points if you know it!) Maybe the fact that this song was playing while I was standing there crying and fighting with 2 was just so I'd shut up and listen to its lyrics and heed its message before I said something rash or overly dramatic.
Unfortunately, three days (two in utter silence) later, here I sit...with just this song on repeat, wondering what could have been...and what will be.
Sunday night, as we were "discussing" things on the street (where most rational and effective discussions take place...on the street...at 1AM...on a Sunday night...just ask the three angry black women who were on his corner threatening to cut someone...), the live band at the bar across the street began to play a song that EB played for me on his guitar on maybe our third or fourth date. It was a song I'd never heard before or since EB, and was so sweet and touching (he, naturally, learned it for a frat talent show) and in my mind is just so intricately tied into my mental image of EB that I immediately lost it. I was sobbing. 2 thought it was because of him and our talk, but it wasn't-- it was about so much more. "Why that song? Why now?" was all I could think. It could mean one of many things: was it playing at this exact moment to let me know that EB is actually The One and 2 is not? Was it playing at this exact moment to let me know that 2 is The One and EB never was? Was it playing at this exact moment to let me know that just like EB, 2 is also not The One? Was it just goddamn Fate, stopping by to smile smugly at my dilemma and twist the knife a little deeper? I didn't know. I still don't know.
However, Fate never lets up.
The next afternoon, after not hearing from EB since I messaged him for his birthday in December , I got an email-- OUT OF THE BLUE-- joking around about spotting one of my friends on a list for a party this Thursday night and wanting to know how I was doing. I wrote back saying that it was too funny to hear from him, as the night before I'd been walking by a bar (sometimes we all bend the truth) and heard that song playing, it made me think of him, I hope he's well. He wrote back, you guessed it, following up on December's mention of getting together.
At first I was uncertain if this is a good idea or not. I mean, when I say things were HORRIBLE between us at the very end, that's no exaggeration. We got in terrible, screaming fights. He blocked his doorway to keep me from storming out in anger. I even slapped him across the face at a crowded bar. These were not my finest hours; we'd gone from being madly in love to just plain mad. And yet, many, many times over the past year plus, I'd wondered where we went wrong/what I'd done wrong. I think on some level I've needed closure from EB since our last blowout. So, and don't be mad at me dear readers, I told him that this Sunday should work for a drink, we could be in touch as it got closer.
This response gives me an out. If 2 should call and we decide that yes, I will still accompany him to his event on Saturday night, then no, I will not see EB. We can reschedule for another time. If I never hear from 2 again then I'm free to guiltlessly meet up. I don't know what to expect. If he tells me he's engaged to someone else (by all accounts completely impossible [my dearest friends]) or in a serious relationship (who the hell would say that [my dearest friends again]), I'm not sure how I'll feel. Possibly not good, possibly quite bad. It could be like the SATC scene when Big tells Carrie he's engaged to Natasha and she gets up and leaves the restaurant. However, I see myself being much more of a schmuck and uttering some sort of fake congratulations and asking details whilst slowly drying up inside until I'm just a shriveled-up shell of myself sitting across from him. If EB tells me he wants to give "us" another go, I'd absolutely shoot it down. That window of opportunity has long since closed, and then been broken by a stray baseball from the neighborhood kids, boarded up, and then demolished along with the house it was in. My hope, unrealistic as I'm sure it may be, is that I get some sort of reassurance from him-- in whatever form it may come-- that it wasn't me all that time ago, that I was good and great and that it was him that needed more time and anyone else would be crazy to make the same mistake. Am I asking too much? Probably. But if you don't ask, you won't receive.
And after all of this ranting, I've taken a moment to pull up that song and have a solid listen. "Baby I really really love you now, I think you should stop your cryin'. Here's my kerchief to dry your eyes, you know that I love you." (Bonus points if you know it!) Maybe the fact that this song was playing while I was standing there crying and fighting with 2 was just so I'd shut up and listen to its lyrics and heed its message before I said something rash or overly dramatic.
Unfortunately, three days (two in utter silence) later, here I sit...with just this song on repeat, wondering what could have been...and what will be.
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