Over the last 15 years, I’ve
written about my many co-workers, friends, family members, and dates; and in all
that time there has only been one person whose real name I used. If I were a
psychologist, I’d probably find significance in the fact that he’s the only one
to maintain his identity. But instead I’ll just give him a fake name now. We’ll
call him Jay.
Here’s how we met: I was a new and
embittered transfer to a Midwestern college in 2000. I’d had to leave Wheaton
due to the fact that I couldn’t afford it, and I had no idea how to survive at
a public university, having spent the last 13 years of my life in private
schools. I literally didn’t eat for 3 days because I was convinced I’d be
brutally attacked by barbarians if I ventured outside my dorm.
I did,
however, manage to start volunteering at a nearby organization that recruited
college kids to be mentors for neighborhood youth. It was here that I met Jay.
I remember very specifically that he was wearing a blue shirt, that he looked
like a young Kevin Bacon, and that he had a glass eye.
I stared at him incredulously. Both his eyes looked so realistic! Those of you who know him will know that it is
typical of Jay to do something like introduce himself to a new acquaintance by explaining that he
has a glass eye – when in fact, both of his eyeballs are fully functioning. But I was young and naive so I fell for it.
Eighteen
years later when he asks, “When have I EVER lied to you!?” I testily bring up
the glass eye.
I met a lot
of people at college but this person was different because he made me laugh.
That’s why we became friends -- well, that’s why I picked him for a friend; I
have no idea why he picked me. He is kind of a friend-magnet, so it was probably unavoidable.
Many years after graduation, we
went on a date. I remember how odd it was; I actually asked a bartender for a strong adult beverage before Jay showed up
(he doesn’t drink). Upon looking at the menu, I asked for a “chocolate cake” – clearly, this was
before I knew that a “stiff drink” doesn’t normally
involve the word cake. The chocolate
cake did little to assuage my nerves -- You can’t just go on a date with your
friend and expect it to be normal. Plus, Jay and I were both super awkward when it came to dating, being late bloomers and all, so this was a recipe for
disaster. We never went on another one.
It took us
maybe seven years to even reference The Date, and in that time, all our friends got married. We both went out with a host of colorful people and occasionally compared war stories: the guy who started a commune to avoid marrying me; the LDS girl who was so conflicted she got with him to prove a point.The mutual acquaintance whose memory I'd blocked because the date was SO BAD; the girls he'd waited seven dates to kiss.
And something became increasingly clear to me: we should have gone on a second date. And maybe a third one. In fact, there were many times when I almost said something to this effect. But I didn’t do it until recently. And do you know what he said?
“It’s not that I
made a decision not to go on a 2nd date; other, nearer opportunities
came up and now you’re anchored there and I’m anchored here.”
I tell you, if that’s
not the sweetest thing someone’s ever said to me, I don’t know what is!
Jay is a more practical person than me.
Years ago, I started something a man who lived 900 miles away, in New York. And after that, with an Irish lad who lived 4,000 miles across the pond. I've never thought of distance as a factor. For me, if you "get" someone (which happens rarely, IMO) you just work out the rest! Jay, on the other hand, likes to be “free” and “spontaneous”
and feels “tied down” when someone lives in a different city than him. In his world, it's a case of ships passing in the night and oh well.
This leads me to my final summation: I am sure that Jay and his other, closer opportunities, and his anchors will all be very happy together. This is what I imagine him looking like someday: free, happy, unfettered, and surrounded by snow.
This leads me to my final summation: I am sure that Jay and his other, closer opportunities, and his anchors will all be very happy together. This is what I imagine him looking like someday: free, happy, unfettered, and surrounded by snow.
