Tuesday, March 28, 2006

 

The First Love

1995: Bulletin Board Services (BBSs) were the main forum for electronic communications. Gore had just invented the Internet and Prodigy was the dominant player in the "full service" market. And I was in love.

She was my age and lived in Highland Falls, Illinois. From what I understand, as I'd never been to Highland Falls, this was Illinois' version of Long Island. We chatted for 8 hours, 6 on the computer and 2 on the phone. She fell in love with me that night. And she told me so, that night.

I had never been in love before and as I was only 17, I didn't really know what love was. I said, "thank you," as any other response would have been insincere. We continued to talk, hours and hours on end, on almost a daily basis. Internet time was charged per hour back then and long-distance calls were far from 3 cents a minute. But I didn't care, I was falling in love with her and she was already in love with me.

This went on and on (and I will not bore you with the details) until I went to college. Two months in-- freshman year. We had our first fight. To this day, I can't remember what it was about, only that it was around my birthday. I think it was about who was going to visit the other person during winter recess. Doesn't matter.

I got her birthday card a few days later, which said "we need to talk." I called her up and that's when my world stood still. First time. She was sobbing uncontrollably when I called.

"I understand if you never want to speak to me again."

"What are you talking about? It was just an argument, we'll get over it."

"Wait..wait. I have to tell you something. Last week, after our fight, Tom came over...and...and...I slept with him"

"WHAT??!?!?!"

"Wait there's more..."

"What do you mean there's more?"

Almost inaudibly, "I'm pregnant."

(Silence)

"I understand if you never want to speak to me again."

"I never want to speak to you again."

And I hung up the phone.

Monday, March 13, 2006

 

Sometimes It Is Better To Be Wrong

So last week I went out with the ex-love. Much more than an ex-lover (some), ex-girlfriend (less but still numerous), an ex-love is few and far between. Reminds me of "A Bronx Tale" (every man has three great loves), well last week's meet was with number 2 on my sequence. Even if it ended there, dayenu (trans. "it would have been enough").

I thought I wanted to touch her again, physically, but I was wrong. What I really wanted was to remember what is was like to laugh with her. There was a time in the beginning when that was all we did-- laugh. We learned so much from each other.

But I was immature in such matters and despite having a rudimentary understanding of love, I didn't understand how to make love coincide with life. Love in a vacuum is much easier than love ensconsed in life. And when we broke up badly, my support network knew it. I told them all the tawdry details through self-slanted glasses. Now, we can never get back together, even if that is what we wanted, for friends and family will never allow me to forget.

Last week, however, was the perfect "non-date" date. There was innocent flirting and great stories and both of us were listening intently, actually giving a shit what the other was saying. And I told her that she was number 2 on my "Bronx Tale" list, not in the hopes of winning her back, just in the hopes that it would make her happy.

And most importantly, I apologized. I apologized for the little things but most importantly, I apologized for the one thing I had wanted to apologize for ever since I said it. I apologized because what I said was a lie. And it was uttered for one reason, to hurt her. So I apologized and told her it was a lie. She said, "do you know that was the reason we broke up?" In truth, there were 1000 reasons we broke up, this was just the straw that broke the proverbial back.

Two days later, I went out on a blind date. I was really excited coming off my non-date to ex-love, feeling rejuvenated about the possibility of finding number 3. What a fucktard (thanks Forksplit) this chick was. Spent two hours with this woman and it was like an interview. I'm sorry, that is belittling an interview. At least at the end of an interview, the candidate has some questions for the interviewer. This was simply a Q&A. I asked every question under the sun and got brief answers or drawn out stories, but never felt that she wanted me to contribute to the exchange.

At least I had better luck this weekend, two women, who both appear to be fantastic possibilities. But I fucked up, twice. I put the ball in their court and have to hope that they call/email. Should have taken the first steps. On the flip side, if they do contact me, then I know it's "on like Donkey Kong." Let you know how it turns out.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006

 

I've officially lost my mind

I've decided to take an earnest shot at a weekly blog. I know I was too overambitious initally, thinking I would stay on top of this on a daily basis. Weekly, there's a shot.

So I am having a drink with my ex-girlfriend tonight. Apparently, I have this masochistic side that is bursting at the seams. The ridiculousness of it all. First, it took me over a year to get over her (we dated for a year and a half). Second, that last "half" was spent sleeping in the same bed without physical intimacy and the relationship ended with me saying the worst thing I've ever said to a woman, which I am not going to share at the moment. Third, I am wearing a new shirt (new shoes and a new belt too).

Now, I extrinsically have no interest in this woman anymore. She isn't even a blip on the proverbial radar. I also have no desire to make her jealous (perhaps subconsciously, but I doubt that as well). The best I can come up with is that if there is a shot in hell I can have one more night with her, might as well take my shot.

Sometimes, I don't like me.

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