It's going to be a busy weekend. I'm probably not going to have time to update on my usual day. So I'm going to go ahead and do this early! Friday, I have some shopping to do to get ready for my convention. Saturday is Pride in the Street, and I get to see Melissa Etheridge. Then, I have Anthrocon the following weekend, complete with last-minute freak-outs and mental check-outs.
Also, this Saturday is International Yarn-bombing Day, so I am working on a top-secret knitting project to "bomb" somewhere downtown. My Ravelry group's KAL for this month is "travel projects" and I will be working on the Loopy Lupie scarves to wear when we do the Lupus walk in September. That counts as "travel" because I'm taking it with me to Anthrocon to work on during whatever down-time I manage to have.
I was listening to music at work last night, and a song came on that made me remember a random night, and how I failed to take a chance. So, once upon a time...
It was hot that summer of '96. I was all of 18, and had finally worked up the courage to ask a male friend to go shoot some pool. Of course, he had a girlfriend at the time, so this couldn't be a "date". So we invited my neighbor and another friend to join us. Because two 15-year-old girls are a perfect cover. Or not. Surprisingly, guys who go to Carnegie Mellon University aren't that stupid. I thought I was something cute at that point in my life. I went out wearing this tiny, low-cut shirt and long, dangly necklaces... He knew exactly what I was up to.
I suppose I should back up a bit. I had met this guy, I'll call him G, the previous October and decided I hated him. I ignored his existence. Then, I met him again shortly before Christmas, when I was out with my then-boyfriend. I changed my mind about wanting to kill him. After breaking up with then-boyfriend, I started hanging out with G more often. He was smart and cute and funny and...a perfect crush. I fell hard. By summer, I was pretty sure I was in love, and it didn't matter, because of his girlfriend. So back to playing pool!
We got to the pool hall, and Jeff and Stiffey were there. It wasn't a real surprise. They often played pool on Friday nights. It gave credibility to my lie that I just wanted to hang out as "friends". We had a pretty good time, all hanging out together. G and I were both terrific flirts, so it was getting pretty corny by the time we had to take the younger girls home. I was the only one of the group who drove at that point. I took the friend who lived furthest home first, then took home my neighbor, because I wanted to be alone with G. Even if I knew nothing was going to happen, it would feed my fantasy life for a good month. I didn't know Jeff and Stiffey were going to follow me home and torment me about spending time with G. That's just how boys are, right? Jeff even announced that he planned to follow me all the way to G's house.
This wouldn't be the first time Jeff threatened to follow me, and he always made the mistake of doing so on my territory. I sped up the hill, killed my headlights and made a very illegal, unsignaled turn onto the first cross-street I came to, then shut the car off so the brake lights didn't give me away. I watched in my rear-view mirror as Jeff flew past the intersection looking for me. G and I both laughed at them, then since the car was parked, we just sat and talked for a bit. It was a pretty intense conversation. He told me he knew how I felt about him, and he was attracted, but he was with someone that he didn't want to break up with. The whole time, he and I just kept leaning closer and closer... After a while, G suggested it was getting "too hot" and I should probably take him home. That fall, I moved out of my mother's house and didn't have time to hang out with my friends like I did when I didn't have bills to pay.
I could have kicked myself for passing up that opportunity. For years, I wished I hadn't. Some days, I still do. G is one of those people from my past for whom I would drop everything to be with just once. I've had a handful of random meetings with G in the years since that summer, but things were never the same again. Last time we found each other online, we exchanged a few pleasantries, but he didn't seem interested in reconnecting. Time changes everything, doesn't it?
I don't know what keeps bringing up these moments of "ancient history" but I'm trying to seize the lessons I can find in them. I'm not so terrified of relationships as I was at 18. If I want to be more than "friends" I need to open my mouth and say so. It doesn't mean that I will lose a friendship over it. It doesn't have to be an either/or situation. It's hard sometimes to take that risk, but it's harder to live with the what-ifs.
No comments:
Post a Comment