Ever have one of those days where everything you’ve ever done that you’ve regretted seemed to come back an smack upside the head? Well, today was one of those days for me.
I got up early this morning to help a friend of mine move. Let’s call her Scrabble Queen. I actually didn’t know about this until less than a week ago, but Scrabble Queen’s longtime boyfriend, Indecisive Boy, broke up with her, and for the past month she’s actually been dating someone new. Actually he’s not new. He’s yet another member of our group of friends, making it seem evermore claustrophobic. We’ll just call the new bf Handsome Brown.
According to Handsome Brown, Scrabble Queen has been having a rough few months because as Handsome Brown puts it, Indecisive Boy “doesn’t know what he wants.” Handsome wanted to give Indecisive a fair chance to say everything he wanted to say to her. We are all friends, and the last precedent he wants to set is to tell Scrabble who she can and can’t see. But apparently, Indicisive Boy was the one who pushed Scrabble Queen toward Handsome Brown in the first place. And I understood entirely why, because I’d done exactly the same thing with N/A.
That’s right. I broke up with the woman two years ago, haven’t spoken to her in almost a year, and somehow I’m still not over her. I probably never will be.
Sure, I never pushed her towards another guy, but I hinted that there were better ones out there, with more appealing features, and that surely he was right around the corner for her. What was really going on was, because I, like Indicive Boy, felt bad about breaking my lover’s heart, so I come up with this pathetic kind of rationale that she could find happiness elsewhere, as if I was doing a good deed pointing her toward it. But truth is that I was a coward running away from commitment. She didn’t want to find happiness somewhere else. She already had it. And so did I. And I totally blew it. And still, somehow two years later I feel like she must still hate me for it. And who could blame her?
Another friend of mine who was helping us move, let’s just call him the programmer, has been dating the same girl for six years. As we all talked about commitment, he mentioned that his girlfriend keeps asking him when he’s going to propose, sometimes throwing angry fits that eventually subside, but saying things like “this relationship is going nowhere.”
“Well, why not?” I asked him. “Why not at least get engaged to her? I know you love her, man, and you’re a great couple. You’re already living together. What’s holding you back?”
The reaction from everyone else was astonishment.
“She’d be overjoyed to hear you say that, but don’t you dare,” he said finally. I realized maybe more of what I was doing was pulling my own regrets out of the past and vomiting them out to him because I could no longer stomach them. I also realized that I sounded just like my mother. It was not 3 years ago that she said the same thing to me about N/A. I remember those words.
“I think you’ll really regret it someday it if you don’t at least get engaged.”
And now of course I realize that I need to be thinking about N/A like I need a hole in the head.
I entitled this one Wicked, because I actually saw the musical, Wicked, tonight with my parents and sister. We all thoroughly enjoyed it. The music, choreography and special effects blew us all away, and it really is a beautiful story. If it happens by your town, I recommend you see it. It really was an inspiring way to end a day like this.
On the way home, my mother asked me how I got roped into helping my friends move today. The best response I could come up with was, “because she needed someone. When I left
In truth, I did have one person help me move from
Today wasn’t a bad day. All things considered, it was a great day. I just still can’t help but shake the feeling that I’d enjoy it all so much more if I could share it with N/A.