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February 14 2000
He stared at his feet, shuffling between his left and right, reminding me of a little boy. I looked at the top of his curly sandy hair, my lips quirking upwards, and thought, for the umpteenth time, He is so cute. He chuckled nervously.
"What are you laughing about?" I asked. He hesitated before answering, then peered up at me over the tops of his wire-rimmed glasses. His aquamarine eyes were shy, and maybe a little scared.
"Nothing. I was just..." I could almost hear him screwing up his resolve as he glanced at his feet again, "I was just wondering if it would be ok if I kissed you."
My heart thumped crazily. In less than a second I thought of at least a dozen responses. You don't have to ask. What took you so long? You know I've had a crush on you since forever. Ravish me now in this parking lot, you magnificent steed.
"What's so funny about that?"
He raised his head, incredulity written across his boyish face. The look in my eyes, on my face, of barely contained happiness convinced him that I truly wanted him. That I cared for him, had been fond of him, perhaps even loved him, almost since we had met at a community theatre years before. That, despite the two men I had been involved with in those years, both of whom I had loved deeply, it was in his eyes that I saw my soul.
He stepped closer and gathered me in his arms, and my heart stopped as I gazed into his beautiful blue eyes. Then...we kissed. A sweet, gently urgent kiss. I have waited for this for three years, I thought as my arms snaked around his neck. Our kiss lasted an eternity...
********************
A trifle less than an eternity, actually. Unless eternity now equals three and a half years. Last I checked, it was longer than that.
It's been three years and two weeks since the ending of that eternal kiss. After three years thoughts of him should be close to zilch, right? Well, I don't think about him all the time. Just a few times a day. I remember what we had, the great times we spent together...
Dancing in the supermarket aisles. Laughing at our little private jokes. Reveling in our public displays of affection. We really had a lot of trouble keeping our hands off each other, in public and private, all through the relationship, and not just in a sexual way. We just enjoyed holding hands and hugging and kissing. Numerous were the times that friends would joke at us, "Get a room!" At one party we were dubbed "The Honeymooners", a title that stuck with that group of friends for a long time. No, not because we reminded people of the Kramdens, but because we acted like a newlywed couple.
We had a good relationship, filled with far more ups than downs, and supported one another as much as we could. We took care of each other and our two cats, Noel and Michael. He was all I'd ever wanted in a man: intelligent, funny, sensitive, handsome, attentive, gentle, creative, with gorgeous blue eyes that often caused my heart to skip a few beats and a beautiful singing voice which he frequently serenaded me with.
"I love you," he would croon, "and the song that I sing is the only way that I can explain." Needless to say, there were many times I'd tear up from sheer joy and happiness.
Though I did, on occasion, notice the attractiveness of other men, and had even been turned on by them, I never really wanted anyone else.
...and I think about the end.
I awoke late as the bright Saturday morning streamed through the mini-blinds, stretching, unwilling to roll out of bed. He had already been awake for a few hours. I knew this because he had kissed my forehead earlier in the morning and announced that he was going out to get a newspaper. Half asleep, I mumbled something, and he leaned over to plant a quick kiss on my lips.
I knew that I had to get my ass out of bed and start the new day. Being greeted by the smell of cat urine cinched it. Damn it! Noel better not have pissed on the bed again! I sat up and brought the bedspread to my nose, trying to find if, indeed, Noel was being a pissy little brat.
He walked into the bedroom, and even without my glasses I could tell that he had a troubled look on his face. "What's wrong?" I asked, swinging my legs around to dangle from his side of the bed. He sat down next to me and took my hand, but looked at his lap.
He seemed to have difficulty speaking, forming his thoughts into coherent words. "I-I can't do this any more."
"Do what?" I was confused by his words and actions.
"I need my own place. I just can't live with you anymore. I'm sorry--"
His words faded from my ears and were replaced by a sound like low frequency static, though he was still talking. I sat staring at him. What is he saying? This must be some sort of test, he's just doing some sort of rehearsal, showing me what a good actor he is.
Turning his head to look at me, I saw unshed tears glistening in his eyes.
I don't quite recall the words that were said after that. All I remember were his words of apology and my constant, "Why? What happened?" At some point he stood up and took some clothes out of his closet in the hall, then went into the living room, me at his heels. I saw the open suitcase on the futon sofa, a suitcase that was normally kept in the detached garage. He wrote out the number of his best friend, saying that he could be reached at that number and a check for half the rent, which was due that day. "I'll come by in a couple of days to pick up Michael."
He finished packing his suitcase and walked to the door. Again, I was right behind him, numb from shock and disbelief. He turned, grasped my shoulder. "I'm sorry, Carol," he sobbed, tears rolling unchecked down his cheeks.
He opened the door and left.
Then I did something that honestly thought was done only in movies. Weakened by this unexpected blow, I fell to my knees and screamed.
By the time I recovered enough to stand, his truck was already gone.
********************
After a while, I called Jenn, but she wasn't home. I left a message, then called my folks to let them know that he and I wouldn't be coming over for dinner. My sister Lisa, who was visiting from Denver with my niece Courtney, answered the phone. She listened in disbelief as I struggled to keep my voice even.
"But he seemed fine yesterday, I didn't notice anything unusual."
"Me neither," I replied. "And I lived with him."
"You come out here, you shouldn't be alone right now."
"I don't think it's safe for me to drive a few blocks, let alone twenty miles."
"I'll come and get you, then. Courtney and I will be there soon."
"No, Lisa, I don't want you to drive all the way out here, just to drive back-"
"Don't be silly, I'm coming to get you."
********************
I called his friend's number and left my folks number, in case Ex needed to reach me. I called a couple of other friends, hoping to talk, but no one was home.
Later that night, while in my dad's computer room, Jenn called me back to see how I was doing. We had a long talk and arranged for me to fly out to Tucson and visit her that weekend. Soon after that I got a call from Ex's best friend.
"Carol, I'm really sorry. If it helps, I know that he still cares for you very much."
"I'm afraid that doesn't help. I don't even know if we're finished as a couple or if he just needs some time to himself. All he kept saying was, 'I need my own place.' "
"I'm not sure. I know he gave you my number so you can reach him until his phone is hooked up, but you can call me if you need to talk."
"What do you mean until his phone his hooked up?"
"At his new apartment. Wait a minute, you didn't know?"
"Know what? That he was leaving me? I just found out this morning as he walked out the door. Are you saying he already has another apartment?"
"Oh, Carol, I thought he told you. He's been looking for a place for a couple of weeks. He just found one the other day."
I was silent as my brain processed this information. I can't believe it. He's been planning to move out for a couple of weeks and he didn't have the balls to let me know. All this time, after he got home from work, he would spend the two hours before I got home to look for another apartment. What a fucking coward.
"I'm sorry, Carol. I shouldn't have said anything. I honestly thought he told you that he was unhappy and wanted to leave."
"No, not a word. Not a fucking clue. Last night we ate Chinese food and watched a video. He lay on the couch with his head in my lap, I was thinking how lucky I was to have him in my life, and all the time he knew he was going to walk out that fucking front door. Well, I knew he was a good actor, but he's even better than I thought."
********************
Believe it or not, I am over the hurt and the anger. For the most part. I think my thoughts just run back to him because he was my most important relationship and there were many things about him that really fit my childhood dream guy. Except for the whole coward thing.
In the end, that's what hurt me the most. That he was too much of a coward to talk to me before-hand and tell me what was bothering him, instead of tossing off a "Oh, it's my job, I'm so sick of it" whenever I asked him what was wrong. (His job did bother him a lot, so it was a reasonable answer.)
I know that he was unsure about marriage, which I had occasionally brought up, about once a year. I'm sure that my ultimatum of the previous October didn't help him. (I said that if we weren't engaged within twelve months, I would have to get my own apartment. I wasn't even contemplating breaking up.)
Plus I think that he was facing his thirty-third birthday and felt that he hadn't accomplished what he wanted to do in life, so he needed a new start and proceeded to jettison his old life. Including me.
Of course, those aren't the reasons he gave me a few days later. Personality differences (what? We were so similar it was almost eerie), me gaining weight (though I was hardly a petite gal when we started dating and I had lost some of the gained weight without trying), him no longer loving me romantically. And apparently he couldn't be creative in the atmosphere generated by us living together, despite the constant support I gave him in whatever creative endeavors he wanted to pursue.
I'm sure that there were a few things that I was responsible for in the break-up, but I'll never really know, since he didn't give me concrete answers. Just a lot of shuck and jive.
Still, I am grateful for what we had. I'm still wistful for a good relationship, one that leads to marriage and children, and I think that's another reason I think about him as often as I do. But the anger and pain are pretty much gone. I've even thought about contacting him again, just to say hi. I have no desire to get back together with him, but he was a friend before he was a lover, and an even better friend while we were together. It would be nice just to see how he's doing these days.
Of course, I plan on waiting until I'm actually seeing someone.
********************
A word of advice, though. If you can avoid it, try not to fall in love with someone whose birthday falls on a holiday. It can kind of ruin the holiday for you if you break-up.
Happy Birthday, Fred.
********************
It's time for...
Squooshy is still sexy, especially on Valentine's Day.
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