Friday, February 03, 2006

The Next Chapter In The Story Of G ...

The other night, I made the decision not to write about what happened with G. He reads this blog (or used to read this blog; not sure if he still does) and I wasn't sure if I wanted him to read what I'd have to say.

Still, this blog is, in part, a serial, and I feel some sense of obligation to let readers know how the story ends.

What follows was written the night I got home from his place. Today, I wrote a letter to him and sent it (as a PDF - ah, technology). That night, he wanted me to stay and talk. I couldn't. So the letter is my half of the conversation. We'll see if he chooses to continue our discourse.

In the meantime, this is what happened.

I knew it was coming. I’ve known.

My intuition is keen.

I knew when I mentioned him in my Christmas letter. “You’re tempting fate,” the voice said in my head.

I knew when I found the perfect Valentine’s Day card for him, weeks ago. I didn’t buy it. “You won’t be together by Valentine’s Day,” the voice in my head said. I went back the next day and bought it anyway. I just won’t listen. Even to myself.

I knew today. The signs were everywhere. I knew. I knew the title of the last post before I drove to see him tonight.

He was more distant than he’s ever been. Stress, he tried to tell me. But I knew. We went to dinner. Conversation was more strained than ever. We walked back to his building. Technically, he held my hand, but he wouldn’t really hold it. His grasp was weak.

So tonight, as I lay on his couch, reading, while he did some work on the computer in the bedroom (or avoided me or mustered up the courage to say what he had to say), I knew. He came and laid down beside me. I turned off the lamp. He asked me what I was thinking. I told him, “I’m thinking that I wish I could do something to help you, but you guys like to just go into your caves until you figure it out.”

“Under normal circumstances, your theory would be correct,” he said.

Wow. Then I really knew.

He was quiet. He tried to decide what to say. “I’m not very good with words,” he said.

“That’s not true,” I said. And I waited.

The gist of what he told me - and I’ll presume it’s the truth because he told me once that he doesn’t lie (though I know he could have been lying when he told me that, but I believe he was telling the truth) - is that he doesn’t feel an emotional connection to me.

I sat up. I folded the blanket that covered me and put it back in its place. Picked up my book and walked into the bedroom to get my things.

He followed me in a moment. Stood next to me.

I looked into his eyes. “I hope you find what you’re looking for,” I said.

He said, “I don’t know if I know what I’m looking for.”

“You’ll know it when it comes along.”

I didn’t stick around long. He kept hugging me, wanting me to sit and talk. I didn’t see the point.

So within 10 minutes, I was standing at the elevator.

And I didn’t look back.


Blogger Aarwenn said...

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8:31 PM  

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