Tuesday, May. 13, 2003
If the moon were full, I'd be howling inside., posted at 9:42 p.m.
Epiphany in Baltimore has moved to epiphanyinbaltimore.blogspot.com I'm not even sure where to begin.The week after Christmas was spent with a woman I thought could be the one. A longtime friend - one of my best - she and I spent what turned out to be one of the best weeks ever at the end of December. Her hand in mine felt natural, it felt right. Yes, it happened quickly and was over quickly, but it still left a lasting impression.
On Jan. 1, we decided that the distance thing was something neither of us wanted, but agreed to let fate take its course. Maybe a move in the near future would be in order for one of us. Something.
After I returned here, I began telling my friends about my week back home, about the girl who might be the one. We continued to talk on the phone for a bit, not mentioned "it" but still maintaining our vibrant, hilarious friendship.
But then something happened. I don't know what, but things became distant. Looking back, I now realize that, very slowly, it was me doing most of the calling, most of the e-mailing. For some reason, she held back, she acted aloof.
...
I recently discovered she's been dating another guy for the last three months. Despite our friendship and at least weekly contact until about three weeks ago, she didn't tell me. Still hasn't.
My initial reaction was shock. After all, I had no right to be upset, really, as we had not pledged exlusivity or even talked about our romantic possibilities in months. Then, I felt mild unhappiness, mostly because of her failure to tell me - why the lack of honesty? Then I went through an entire pissed off mode, as I traced the last couple of months - the unreturned calls, the comments like "that'll be a great place to meet a woman" that I now see were designed to alleviate her own guilt, the hedging on any possible visits to Baltimore, even her refusal to read this journal anymore.
But I'm not angry anymore. Now, I'm just upset. Upset that she was my best friend and now I'm afraid to call her because she's hasn't talked to me sober in weeks and won't seem to return my calls. Upset that I seem to have, yet again, messed something up. Upset because I did imagine our future together, imagine us going to Ram's Head and watching Margaret Cho and driving across the country and choosing Ani DiFranco and Tracy Chapman songs for our reception and spending Thanksgiving together with my great aunt and uncle. Upset because neither the timing nor the geography was right. Upset because I don't understand it. Upset because it once again has taught me a lesson not to take risks, not to stick my neck out. Upset because all this does is make me more guarded, more unable to trust in matters of the heart. Upset because the mixed CD that I made for her is now irrelevant and will stay unsent.
On the other hand, she is needy, the type to get drunk and cry, the type to ask the same question over and over again until your response seems insincere even though it's not. She's the type who always needs to be with someone, who says she's going to spend a few months single for the first time in seven(?) years and instead starts dating someone six weeks into it. (I mean, it's not that hard to stay single. Look at me.)
But she's also fun, pretty, hilarious, intelligent, and interesting.