Sunday, May 15, 2011
Yesterday, friends from my community group at church invited me to the baseball game. (I have been wanting to see a game for a long time.) I suspect that they invited me because of my Sadness and because a girl in our Bible study committed suicide last week. I did not go with them. Yesterday, all I could do was cry and cry and cry. I had no reason to cry, except for the Uncertainty and Sadness of life. It all seemed to swallow me whole. I am living with Barb and Jerry now, in their overcrowded house, but I am not really living there. I take a shower, brush my teeth and put on my pajamas there… and then I quietly drive back Home, to as much of a home as I still have. The only piece of furniture left in the big gold house on the lake is a single twin bed… every room is emptied of its pictures and sofas, tables and TVs. My room and closet have been stripped bare. There are no green chairs on the porches anymore. There is no coffeepot sitting on the kitchen counter. Even the rooster has left. I am living in a Ghost House. I can’t let it go, though, I am afraid to let any of it go. I drive there to sleep at night, in a cavernous, dark space, because I hope that the ghosts of Rosebud and Guard Cat and Derek will comfort me as I sleep, that they will be an anchor in my life that is always so uncertain, never stable. I crawl into the twin bed upstairs and I pretend that I am not alone. The first night, it brought me great peace. But by last night, all of the warmth and memories had departed and I was left, cold and trembling all night long in a house of dead space. It’s not my life anymore. I understand now, what one reader was saying about why men do not make “The Grand Gesture.” I didn’t understand it before, but now I do. If you really loved someone, you would just fade out of their life quietly and let them be. To ask forgiveness almost minimizes their experience. I think I will retire this blog. It started out as a way for me to tell stories. But the stories aren’t funny anymore and sometimes they hurt.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
At Last, We Meet Again...
I went to an engagement party as someone's date a few weeks ago. As I checked to make sure I'd locked the car doors, I glanced over to see a silver Honda Accord parked next to us. Shit, I swore.
My date must have heard. "What's wrong? Everything okay?"
I paused. Yes. Everything was okay. That was all a long time ago. "You bet! Let's go."
We walked into the house full of people and I immediately recognized folks from my past, from a different life. I was swept up in talking and catching up with everyone, but could not avoid the obvious. My Ex was standing only a few yards away.
It had been years since I'd seen Max. I'd played out over and over in my mind what I would do when I finally ran into him. Throw a martini on him? Slap him judiciously across the face? Breeze airily by and ignore him, as he insisted on ignoring me the entire year after we'd broken up? All of these were brilliant possibilities... particularly the last one, as it was IMPOSSIBLE that he hadn't seen me, and yet he was determinedly avoiding my gaze.
At that moment, I was reborn. And why not? I was wearing red lipstick and a long flowing dress. I was there with my handsome boyfriend, whom he knew. What did I have to lose? Because of him, I'd already broken my heart, racked up my medical bills, lost my home, and forsaken my church and friends. It had been more than 3 years since he decided he didn't want to marry me. If he still thought he could ignore me and I would go away, he had another thing coming!
"Max!" I cried in jubilation, clapping my hands and flashing him a blinding white smile. "It's so wonderful to see you again! How are you? I heard you started working at the church! What are you doing there?"
Thus confronted with his --admittedly unstable -- past, Max had no choice but to smile equally wide and engage in mature adult conversation.
It was my finest hour. I talked to Max for a good 15 minutes, and when he left, he made sure to tell me goodbye.
As my date and I left the dwindling party some time later, he said, "Wow. I was really impressed by you tonight. You were fantastic."
"I KNOW!!!!!!" I yelled, "I WAS THE BIGGER PERSON!!!! DON'T FORGET THAT PART! I WAS THE BIGGER PERSON!!!" My magnanimity may have slightly decreased upon my announcing this to the neighborhood at large, but I was extremely excited.
"Yeah, you did great! Good job."
"I didn't know Max was married," I said, conversationally, as we climbed into the car. "He made sure to rub his head in such a way as to display a very obvious wedding ring to me."
"What!? Max's married??" D. exclaimed. "I don't think so. I mean, I know he was dating a girl 10 years younger than him for awhile, but I'm pretty sure he's not married."
"Well, whatever," I said breezily. "Then he's one of those idiots who wears a wedding ring just to make a statement. And I'm still the bigger person."
My date must have heard. "What's wrong? Everything okay?"
I paused. Yes. Everything was okay. That was all a long time ago. "You bet! Let's go."
We walked into the house full of people and I immediately recognized folks from my past, from a different life. I was swept up in talking and catching up with everyone, but could not avoid the obvious. My Ex was standing only a few yards away.
It had been years since I'd seen Max. I'd played out over and over in my mind what I would do when I finally ran into him. Throw a martini on him? Slap him judiciously across the face? Breeze airily by and ignore him, as he insisted on ignoring me the entire year after we'd broken up? All of these were brilliant possibilities... particularly the last one, as it was IMPOSSIBLE that he hadn't seen me, and yet he was determinedly avoiding my gaze.
At that moment, I was reborn. And why not? I was wearing red lipstick and a long flowing dress. I was there with my handsome boyfriend, whom he knew. What did I have to lose? Because of him, I'd already broken my heart, racked up my medical bills, lost my home, and forsaken my church and friends. It had been more than 3 years since he decided he didn't want to marry me. If he still thought he could ignore me and I would go away, he had another thing coming!
"Max!" I cried in jubilation, clapping my hands and flashing him a blinding white smile. "It's so wonderful to see you again! How are you? I heard you started working at the church! What are you doing there?"
Thus confronted with his --admittedly unstable -- past, Max had no choice but to smile equally wide and engage in mature adult conversation.
It was my finest hour. I talked to Max for a good 15 minutes, and when he left, he made sure to tell me goodbye.
As my date and I left the dwindling party some time later, he said, "Wow. I was really impressed by you tonight. You were fantastic."
"I KNOW!!!!!!" I yelled, "I WAS THE BIGGER PERSON!!!! DON'T FORGET THAT PART! I WAS THE BIGGER PERSON!!!" My magnanimity may have slightly decreased upon my announcing this to the neighborhood at large, but I was extremely excited.
"Yeah, you did great! Good job."
"I didn't know Max was married," I said, conversationally, as we climbed into the car. "He made sure to rub his head in such a way as to display a very obvious wedding ring to me."
"What!? Max's married??" D. exclaimed. "I don't think so. I mean, I know he was dating a girl 10 years younger than him for awhile, but I'm pretty sure he's not married."
"Well, whatever," I said breezily. "Then he's one of those idiots who wears a wedding ring just to make a statement. And I'm still the bigger person."
