i cannot tell a lie

i think now about how you asked me if i did it on my own. alone. or if i surrounded myself. warm bodies as protection, distraction.

and i must have half-smiled. taken a deep breath. tilted my head to the ground. looked away, even as we walked together, the same direction compelling us forward.

i knew if i was honest it'd be years before we'd meet again.

but i cannot tell a lie. and even if i could, i figured it was a lie that would bury us in that illusory thing that is borrowed time.

so i gave you the single greatest truth i now hold:

i did it on my own. 

and another before-and-after erupted before us. an uncrossable, impassable, impossible line.

and now i watch from a distance, and only upon occasion, as you thrust and flail and do it exactly as i did not, but in the only way you know how--for now. because time moves differently for each of us.

and i must forgive you for this.

for seeking comfort in familiar cutouts that bear no resemblance to my own.

now i wonder if you'll ever come back. and mostly fear you will.

and that when you do i will know too much and have seen too much and my answer will be the saddest and deepest and bluest bruise of a no.

daydreaming on the train

i thought you sat down on the train next to me today.

for a moment, i thought you sat down next to me.

{and i couldn't breathe.}

there was something about how the man shifted in his seat and held his hands and tugged at his sweater that made me think he might be you.

and i looked up at his reflection in the subway window across the way and right away i could see it wasn't you.

{and a little bit of air escaped between my lips.}

but damn if the way in which he tilted his head didn't feel like you.

and so i nearly didn't believe it--couldn't believe it. so much did i both want and need and fear he might be you that i made liars of my eyes.

and sitting there, next to a total stranger, i nearly reached for his knee, nearly pressed my shoulder into his, half-expected him to take my hand.

because if all i could get was a shadow of you, a ghost of you, an i'll-just-close-my-eyes-and-pretend-version-of-you i'd take it.

if i couldn't have you, i'd take someone who felt like you--even, and if only, for a moment.

i'd take ten minutes, on the train, next to a total stranger, and a sliver of a daydream.

things i wish someone had told me a really long while ago

1. on that moment someone says to you it'll come when you least expect it:

(or, another favorite, when you stop looking).

these expressions are the equivalent of someone saying it'll be in the last place you look, when you've lost something.

which is to say, correct. but also asinine.

of course it's the last place you look. which might also be the first, and how can both those things be true? it might also be the second place you look or the four-hundred-and-sixty-third place. there's no telling.

2. when someone asks why you didn't like a particular man who had great affection for you, your response need be nothing more than a simple because.  

because. period.

one word.

that response is wholly enough. affection given freely (which is the only way it can be given) does not mean you must reward it or reciprocate it. hell, you don't even have to be flattered by it.

but if that word alone does not suffice, how about this: because i didn't. 

because because.

because i didn't like his laugh and i didn't like his smell. because at the end of our third date my only thought was please don't let this man kiss me, please don't let him touch me.  the body knows. it always knows. and it'll tell you. but you have to listen.

a man's affection (or rather, any romantic partner's affection) is a starting point. a fork in the road. the absolute minimum of what must be expected. and if you choose to walk in the other direction, so be it. a man's affection is not a life raft, nor is it a fainting couch on which to collapse. to accept or not is your choice. and you need not explain that to anyone.

3. sometimes you just need someone to pass the lonely with.

and that is okay.

affection can be real and true and good and going absolutely nowhere.

some men will highlight your loneliness. draw attention to it, make it worse. their hand on your knee a distancing thing. and some men will raze that loneliness with a single glance. these are the men who will reveal themselves as home in the span of a night--in the length of time it takes to drink a glass of wine. these are the men who you will move mountains for--they are rare and remarkable and between the two of you a sort of alchemy takes flight.

and then there are the men who you want to kiss--the men you want to adore, but will never fall in love with. so kiss them. and go to breakfast with them. let them buy you dinner. take them to the movies and ruin summers with them.

people speak in directives about love. love entirely or not at all. take the whole of it or none of it. nothing in between.

but the thing is, sometimes the in-between is really good. it  is something-else-entirely and sometimes something-else-entirely is entirely right. for a time, it is entirely right. rich and fertile practice ground. a meaningful passing of the time.

sometimes something-else is the comfort of a man’s arm wrapped around you—the immediacy of its warmth and touch, but nothing else. it is not home and it is not the promise of home. but it is nonetheless healing and restorative. and it is your choice.

and that's okay.

man, i wish someone had told me it was okay a good long while ago.

you do not have to live your life according to the prevailing opinions about love and making a life. you have only to be ruthlessly honest with yourself about what it is you want and what it is you'll accept one-day-at-a-time.

photo by the divinely talented(and dear friend) emma hartvig

the truest thing i've ever written

when i was nineteen years old and home on christmas break i awoke from a dream, and upon doing so, scribbled down the following words:

"because sometimes i like being friends with you so much--i can't breathe"

it remains the truest thing i've ever written.

ironic because friends was entirely the wrong word.

i still have that slip of paper, despite having long since moved on from the man.

but not the notion, i certainly hope i'll never move on from the notion.

lessons in dating

 

this last time i saw Tom he asked me to enumerate the many things i had learned from my-last-failed-attempt-at-romance/my-last-failed-attempt-at-a-relationship/last-failed-attempt-at-a-foray-into-modern-day-dating (which is really modern-day-texting).

in smart-ass-fashion i replied,

even if i do everything you tell me to... it doesn't always work. which means sometimes even the extreme rationale of Tom is no match for the blustery-winds of romance. damningly capricious romance. (which says more about the blustery-winds of capricious romance than it does about Tom. this alone makes me want to give up on it altogether and hide under my covers only to emerge when pre-arranged marriages have come back into fashion).

tom is my life-spirit-guide.

which means tom is also my relationship and romance and love spirit-guide.

he is not, however, my modern-day-texting spirit guide, but only because tom does not approve of modern-day-texting-as-a-relationship. (point of fact, tom has made it clear that he is very thankful to have just-missed-the-modern-day-texting that now serves as both relationship initiation and bedrock).

this is depressing on many levels because tom is all of like three years older than me--or some ridiculously small number (which is depressing enough, usually, without the added insult of having just missed missing modern-day-texting).

cruel twist of fate and time.

after managing to smooth out my smirk i gave Tom's questions some actual thought. (which to remind you, because i got so far off topic, was about what i had learned from this last romantic venture).

i mostly learned things i already knew. but had to be reminded of. and will have to be reminded of again and again, i'm sure.

1. never trust what a man says on the first date. many men will say a lot of things to get one particular thing...sneaky creatures, these men. 

2. my girl crazy can accelerate from totally sane to frighteningly unintelligible in an disproportionately short amount of time. 

and i mostly have my head on my shoulders. and yet. and still. 

i once said to tom that i'd need to end up with a man like him. and no, this is not the story of a girl falling in love with her therapist. rather it's that...i go to see him and my feet are ten feet off the ground and he's so gosh darn rational and honest and direct that i leave and my feet are suddenly on solid ground. he's ever so gently reached up and pulled me down. and i'm gonna need a life-partner who understands that i can over-think myself into or out-of any of many (many, many) ridiculous scenarios. and i just need a gentle tug on the hand. solid ground.

so, regarding this last attempt at affection-taking-flight, i felt sane. i felt good. i had my wits about me. and i could sense when the girl-crazy reared its head and i'd give it a sort of sideways look and put it away. but it kept coming back and eventually it won out. and i was aware of what was happening. unable to stop it, but aware nonetheless. and awareness is the first bit on the road to something else, no?

what i realized this go round is this...

and this is the tough bit.

i have the best girlfriends in the world. i really, really do. but i absolutely cannot talk to them all about men (some of them, not all). we girls love to gab, don't we? and nothing is more exciting, more intoxicating than rehashing every last bit of last night's romance.

but here's the thing (and i concede this might be particular to my circle, but i have a suspicion that's it's slightly more universal), unless the girl i'm speaking to is in a solid, steady, long-term, not-on-the-rocks-relationship, it is not to be discussed. I REPEAT, NOT TO BE DISCUSSED. because those girls in the solid, steady, long-term, not-on-the-rocks relationships listen and actually hear what you're saying and can offer counsel.

otherwise, the girlfriend listening is dissecting her own tumultuous this-week-tryst as she listens. she then attempts to speak to you through her own distorted lens about her own situation, all the while saying its not about her. but it is about her.

i've also learned the hard way that when i'm pretty nuts about a guy my girlfriends will have none of him and when i'm absolutely-out-of-my-mind-bored-by-someone they think he's the cat's pajamas.

tom says this all happens because as woman we're expected to play certain roles. and that gossip and all this girl chat provides a certain purpose and there is science for all this and yada, yada, yada.

which is to say, tom agreed. discussing fledgling romantic relationships with my girlfriends is not good. it encourages the girl crazy. and then accelerates it.

and finally,

3. i have to go just as far as i need to go in pursuit of a man (which is to say i always end up texting long after some of my friends are like, meg, it is his turn). i can't follow anyone else's rules or guidelines--i have to honor what i think is best. and then i have to sort of throw up my hands and trust that the winds of change and fate and a little bit of luck will either come out in favor of the thing or not. and if not, it is not a reflection on me or my worth. (IN OTHER WORDS, I CAN'T TAKE IT ALL SO SERIOUSLY, OR PERSONALLY--which is--yes, you guessed it--sort of, quite a bit, hard for me).  

have i ever told you how very much in a sea of married and coupled-up bloggers i hate being single? but it does put me in a unique position to offer up dating advice for anyone reading who is not married or in one of those long-sought-after long-term relationships. and someone's got to do it.