I've been holding my breath for 24 hours and the clock still hasn't moved. My eyes are closed.
I breathe.
I hyperventilate with the first tentative inhalation.There's a smell- faint, yours, gone.
I open my eyes.
The light from the staring-box hurts them, causing me to blink. My eyelids feel like sandpaper. Some tears would probably help, but that's not how I feel, not at all. I am a rock. Immovable. Impassive. Marvel at my stoicism! Giggle at my stupidity!
It wasn't long ago that Lenore called me -first time in weeks? months? She had heard that I'd been sick and called to check in. This scared the shit out of me-I must really like Lenore, because she terrifies me- she seems to know an awful lot about me and I've only known her a little over a year. We met at one of my Temp jobs. During that time she's been:Divorced , seperated, single , widowed, married- sometimes simultaneously. I find her inscrutable, yet compelling, like one of those arty Swedish flicks that you are supposed to understand, but don't. Still, it's an engrossing film. The only thing I know is that she has two kids, boys, 8 &11 , I think. They seem to like me, but they make me feel weird. I'm sure it's mutual, though we've only met a couple times.
I'm trying to avoid emotional turmoil right now- I'm not at all ready for a serious relationship, and I don't want one that isn't serious- so Lenore's call made me wish I had my Xanax.
Whew! She doen't have time to talk- she'll call back soon.
I stop breathing again until her next call. I plan my speech, over and over, pretending that I know how she'll respond, preparing my words of calm and balm, readying myself for what is to come.
I need to tell her that I still care about her, but we can't be together. Our Crazy Quotient is too high. I'd be a Bad Dad. I will always consider her a friend , but I can't see her now- not for a long time , if ever. And so on. The Speech.
Anyway, I was ready for her call.
Ring!
(Semi-verbatim)
Lenore: We need to talk.
Me: OK
L: I still love you (wow!-she never said that before!), and I'm glad you are getting better, but we can't be together.
(i'm completely unprepared for this)
Me: ...why?
L: I could never date a man who doesn't drink, and I don't want you to start again.
( Lenore is nothing if not full of surprises. Not one be be estimated, over OR under )
Me: That's cool, I was , ahhh...nevermind.
-We talk about the folks at the old job for a while-
L: Well, gotta go! Be good-I'll send you a card sometime! (?)
Gosh. I sure do feel stupid, but at least I'm relieved enough to breathe deeply without passing out.
2 comments:
Well you're both on the same wavelength in a way, so that's good. For her to know and be able to say she needs to be with a drinker is both cool and frustrating if that makes sense lol.
She has never been arrested ,deathly ill ,fired, kicked out etc. for drinking and stuff, so it's hard for her to understand that being wasted every night lowers the quality of life. She's very pretty and really funny, so she should be able to do better than dating the weird,drunken Temp who's always looking at those 'anti-American' websites- (that was me when we met)
Ah, well. Life continues.
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