i'm never gonna know you now (waltz #2)
What is it that sucks so much about losing someone you hardly knew that well to begin with, someone who was probably all wrong for you anyway? And by you, of course, I mean me. But let’s go with you. I feel crappy enough.
Most obviously there’s the rejection part. The part where the other person whispered soft assurances like I’m worth it and I think you’re worth it, and you believed him, and you decided to really let yourself like him. And he in turn took a second look at you all vulnerable and honest, and reconsidered. The part where this person who mere weeks ago found you cool and fun and sexy realized that in fact, you are not. And sure, if one looks at it with any sort of reason, it just means that the two of you were not a good match. But you know what? When you’re not the first person to point that out it still feels a lot like a kick in the stomach.
But I gotta say, this is not the part that gets me.
The part that gets me is the squashing of all the little stories you let yourself make in your head. Not the big unrealistic stories you had no business making about thirty years from now, but the small stories about doing the crossword puzzle and making him French toast. And the one about going square dancing – because where the fuck are you going to find another guy who wants to do that? And you didn’t even get to dance together in a non-kitchen venue, not even once. And it probably would have been really nice. And the generic stories about taking him on the midnight bike ride and walking over the bridges and snowshoeing, and the specific stories about… well, the stuff that’s too personal to write about here. But, for example? You never even get to see him in the opera you’ve heard him singing for weeks. Even though you are so excited for him (even though he just kicked you in the stomach). You just don’t get to see it.
And me? I don’t make these stories right away. I usually say right off the bat, I’m not making stories; let’s just see what happens. At which point the guy says, But think of all the fun stories we could have! Let me tell you some stories. I’m putting myself out there, join me for some stories. And I say, Well, you do seem to be putting yourself out there. You do seem to like me. There are a few stories I could imagine…
And the guy says, Squash, Squash, Squash.
posted by tortaluga @ 9:30 PM
3 Comments:
My thoughts are that, when you do find the right partner, all of these stories -- made up or real -- are going to seem like incomplete, little tales that could never have been as unbelievably wonderful as the ones that you're actually experiencing. Hope that helps.
There's no denying it - this is the suckiest time.
The consolation, however far off it is, is that one day you will be with the REAL person you were meant to make stories with. And you'll, as a random double date, meet up with one of those wrong people who squashed your stories in the past. And over brunch, you'll talk to him and the woman he chose *over you* and look at your partner and say HOLY COW am I glad that he punched me in the stomach because you are SUCH a better person for me -- and he's losing his hair too!
Not that that's ever happened to me...
Love,
La
you guys rock. and la, i'm so curious...
on the plus side, this thing (like the last few that have read pretty much the same)was really new, so it's not a fraction as awful as when you lose a person you were fairly sure was going to be around a while.
the crap part is that i'm not on a big mission for the Real Person. i *love* this part where i get to know little pieces of people whose lives i don't get to live. i just wish they'd stick around longer and enjoy it with me.
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