Another Saturday came and went in relative routine. Sleep in a little, get some breakfast, work a few hours, get a workout in, have a couple of drinks with S, my friend of 20 years.
He doesn't know the whole truth about Mel. He thinks she just shares a lease with an ex. He doesn't know that she's married, that I'm truly second string, that her calls from the car when she dashes to the grocery store for 20 minutes on Saturday evening simultaneously tear me apart and make me angry. He doesn't know that he's actually not an ex, not at all, not even close.
And still he shakes his head. Still he asks what I'm thinking, begs me to tell him how I think this could ever work out. "She could fix it, dude. If what she says about how she feels about you is true, it's really not that hard."
He sprinkles this in between his overarching recommendation that I just kick it to the curb. Of course, to him this is a "statement". i.e., Mel has baggage, this ain't cool, so until she fixes it, just play more basketball.
I'm pretty sure I'd make the same recommendation if I were in his shoes. Either that, or "don't invest in her emotionally", which, I guess, is the same thing, just injected with over a decade of learning how to play the dating game.
I almost told him. I almost said "it's complicated" and proceeded to tell him why. But there's judgment buried in there -- of her, of me, of any future we'd have together -- and I decided, prudently I believe, to hold my tongue.
I kept wanting to say "But I love her." But I didn't.
I just let him talk as we were doing wood choppers (it's a cable exercise at the gym), finally sighing in that "I don't really want to talk about this anymore" manner and said, "Dude, I'm really not happy about it. The whole thing is really hard for me."
And he stopped lecturing. He just said "I know," nodding, and looked me square in the face with compassionate resignation.
It was a solid bromance moment.
--
A part of me wanted to regurgitate what she says -- about divorce and marriage and all that jazz being hard. Like maybe, because he's married, he'd agree with her.
But I don't think he would. I think he'd just reiterate to me, ever more invigorated, his advice to GTFO. After another rant on being a home wrecker, the sanctity of marriage, and the horrors of cheating.
But I still love her. As hard as it is.
--
Sigh. That boundary thing again. I really hate not being able to sleep. Especially because of a girl.
I'm single on the weekends. Maybe I should act like it. Perhaps I should stop taking her calls on the weekend.
It's not like I would go out on a date with a new chick and then try to make some excuse so I could go call Mel. "Hey, I need to make a quick call, will you excuse me?"
LOL. Actually, I did that once, I think. It was that first week, on Monday. May 17. I had a date, and Mel called, and I totally dis'd my date for 10 minutes to go outside and talk to her. It was before any of this, back when it could've been just a fleeting crush that she never acted on.
And I didn't tell my date, of course. But then, I never called her again, either. And if she had pursued, I'd have told her the truth. "(our date was great, you're awesome, etc.). I'm sorry for the terrible timing, but I'm in love with someone else."
Funny story? I'm pretty sure her name was Amanda. Maybe it is some form of cosmic poetry that I never went out with her again. First love remains special. Amanda retains her own unique montage in my mind's eye.
Sigh. I dunno. It's all fine and dandy to think about compartmentalizing my heart and soul, but it's quite a different matter in real world practice.
--
We reconnected on Friday in a way that I haven't felt since the ballpark. It wasn't quite the same... not completely open and free like it was when she was sleeping over and I was starting point guard. But almost. That's the nature of reconnecting... it takes a little time to really get there.
The difference? We actually had time. She wasn't in a hurry to get "home" and we had time to just hang out. To just "be".
Imagine that. Sheesh.
She said she thought the distance was coming from me. That I've been pulling away.
It makes me want to scream at her when I think about that. Not in a negative or harsh way, but in a "that's the silliest thing I've ever heard" sorta way.
Yes, I'm pulling away. Duh. LOL.
I guess what makes me want to scream is that I feel that everything I've done is reactionary. It's not like I woke up one morning, looked over at her, and thought to myself, "I really need to distance myself from this gorgeous woman in my bed who loves me."
(more laughter)
I think it's pretty normal to feel a bit alienated when you go from starting point to playing the last two minutes in the fourth quarter, but only if there's a 20 point difference. Heh.
She admitted that she doubts me a lot. That there are often days when she feels like she could live without me. As if I didn't know that. As if I'm not picking up on the look on her face (or lack of it), the demonstrable changes in behavior and attitude, or the growing absence of forward-looking statements.
She used to talk about kitchenware, chandeliers, and what Christmas together will be like. Now she says "I need to call (husband)." and walks 30 feet away for 10 minutes while I wait painfully.
I'm not a therapist or a psychologist. I've never had a relationship longer than a year that wasn't plagued by constant fighting or a cheating slutbag. And despite my yearning for acceptance and relentless persistence on the Cosmo "perfect man" checklist, I'm a pretty self-centered prick that generally assumes it's not my fault when relationships don't work out. I'm nevertheless pretty sure that her behavior shift counts as distance.
And you know what? It doesn't piss me off nearly as much as it should. It is the Faustian bargain I've agreed to, so part of me is mentally prepared.
Her assignment of that distance to me, though, is pretty damn surprising.
--
I suppose all of this is just mental masturbation. I'm not really processing anything, I'm not experiencing catharsis, and I'm not making any sort of statement.
I'm still in. That distance that has arisen is unfortunate, but unavoidable under the circumstances. It is my subconscious pulling away because it hurts so much. Like I said before, compartmentalizing the heart isn't easy.
I still miss her. I still hurt a little every day and a lot on Sundays. But again with the mental masturbating.
To her, I would say that the distance is yours to control. That is the power I've given you, so you cannot look to external sources (i.e., me) for the cause.
To S., I would say that I appreciate your input. I'm ignoring it.
To myself, I would suggest that you think of yourself as single on days when she isn't your girl. And just like trying to go out when your heart is breaking, nothing will come of it, but the acknowledgement is prudent.
--
Going out when your heart is breaking.
There's been a lot of times when I've gone out with the boys and disappeared ten minutes after paying a cover to walk into a club. Turns out when your heart is breaking, your world has collapsed, and all you want to do is cry, a drink and some pretty girls don't help at all.
You just end up in the car, $20 less rich, wasting gas on your heater, playing songs like this.
And while I'm posting videos and thinking about Sunday: "You think that you can do without me. I can't do anything at alllllll. You think that you can do without me. Well I don't believe in Sundays... I don't believe in anything at all."
Humph. I'm surprised this one didn't show up in my breakup song list. Adam has a knack for saying exactly what I feel better than I can myself sometimes... maybe it's too complex. Maybe I save the Counting Crows for my own therapy. :-)
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