Where
to begin? Last night’s surreal freakishness was so far out of the
bounds of normalcy that trying to put it into words is challenging. I
think it’s important though. Maybe someone can learn something from my
adventures and decide that certain things are better left in the past.
In
high school, I had a somewhat unhealthy crush on a boy who was a year
older than me. As a skateboarder, he hung with all the other
skateboarding boys I knew. Though I was never “part of the crew,” a few
of the guys were pretty close friends of mine and therefore I was often
where this guy was at. However, he never had anything nice to say to me
or about me, and for some reason, instead of that making me hate him, it
caused me to want his acceptance even more. Such a typical
“girl-likes-guy-that-doesn’t-like-girl” story. Nothing incredible there.
I
have one particularly hurtful memory of this boy though. Once, he
showed up at a friend’s party and I had never seen him at a party before
- or anywhere outside the skate ramp or school. I gathered the courage
to approach him and I asked him why he had always been so mean to me.
His response? “Because I don’t like you.” Okay, basic enough, but it
broke my 15 year-old heart. From then on, I pretty much erased him.
Flash
forward to March 2013. 25+ years later. I saw that he had posted a
comment under a friend’s photo on Facebook. I hadn’t seen his name in
years. I commented on the photo as well, and then added that I was sorry
for always “making his life hell” in high school. A kind of Mea Culpa
on my teenage girl obsession. Life went on.
April
2013 I was looking at a message in my Facebook inbox and saw that I had
a message in my “other” folder, which I didn’t even know existed. It
was from him. It said simply, “Hi.” I was stunned. There, on my laptop
screen, was a direct message from someone who had been such a large part
of my thoughts when my heart was far from fully developed. He was, in
fact, my first “real” crush. Someone I looked forward to catching
glimpses of at school, wondered about, wished would notice me...I wrote
back. An automatic and easy-flowing FB messaging string began that
seemed so natural it was hard to believe I actually didn’t know him, and
that he knew so little about me.
For
me, the correspondence was about trying to establish an acquaintance.
Maybe even a real friendship. To try to replace any lingering bad
memories with something better. I thought about it night after night and
there was no weird leftover romantic comedy crush from high school. It
wasn’t about that. It was much deeper. I felt somewhat validated that
this guy that treated me so poorly was telling me he was impressed with
what I had accomplished in life. He thought my daughter was beautiful.
He thought I was “hot”. He looked forward to my messages in his
“otherwise pretty boring life”. I learned a lot about him and where he’s
currently at in life. He shared, what he said, was more than he’d ever
shared with anyone outside of a professional therapist. The comfort
level was high. I’ve been through a shitload of trauma in my lifetime
and am still in the middle of some extremely painful things. I had a lot
of advice to offer, wisdom from past hurts, and the heart to actually
listen without judgement. How did it go from someone I dreamed about
every night so long ago to someone spilling his guts about his own
hurtful times?
At
some point in our correspondence I gave him my cell and suggested we
meet up to talk face-to-face. I have to admit, I was more than a little
curious to see what had become of him. I knew he still surfed and
occasionally still skated. I knew he had a stable job doing what he
loved, that he hadn’t ever really left the ‘hood, and that he believed
in loyalty and contentment. I knew he played hockey, road his bike for
miles and was generally a pretty healthy guy. I knew he was still super
cute, that he had beautiful body art that would put anything anyone else
had to shame. Beyond that, I didn’t know anything.
I
got his number in return and FB messaging turned to casual texting.
Nothing crazy. Nothing inappropriate. Just texting that one would think
was coming from two people that were close friends.Then we talked on the
phone. That first call was terrifying for me. Hearing his voice made it
so real. He was no longer words on a screen, he was a real man. A man
who was a boy in my little girl thoughts. We talked for hours about
everything. He was encouraging, sweet, funny, and surprisingly
thoughtful. I told him I was overwhelmed by some things and he said, "If
you ever need help..." He apologized for high school. He said he
reached out because it haunted him how badly he had treated me. He said
he was anti-social back then and hated everything and every one. Wow. It
was good. I felt okay. There was a tiny seed of friendship there. I had
hope for my adult self.
I
had to be in his neck of the woods for work so once again, I suggested a
meet up. After confessing that he was nervous to see me, nervous about
the jerk he had been and nervous because he’d never been through
anything “like this” at all, he finally agreed. Yeah, it was awkwardly
nerve-wracking for me as well. What if he thought I was boring? Ugly?
Not interesting? I’m a 40+ year-old woman and at this point in my life
it’s pretty apparent that women don’t really have the upper hand when it
comes to aging well. I hate to say it but if I hadn’t invested as much
as I have in everything from Botox to kick-boxing, I might be featured
on the Creatures of Wal-Mart web site.
I
have come to embrace the fact that you only live once and I decided
that no matter what happened, no matter what he thought, the fact that
God gave me this opportunity to create a new memory to replace any less
happy ones was worth the embarrassment. I had only request prior to our
meet-up, and that was that he was at least somewhat sober. I had a few
back and forth texts with him that showed me he liked to drink a little
more than I’m okay with at this moment. Dealing with some heavy alcohol
issues within my own family, with the person I pledged my heart to, and
friends of mine, I’m not open to allowing anymore alcohol-induced
psychosis and drama into my life. We picked a day and I headed down to
my old home-town. I did a lot of deep-breathing on the drive there. A
lot of nervous double-checks in the rearview mirror. A lot of
second-guessing. He had promised that he had only “two glasses of wine”
and for whatever reason, I failed to recognize the “code” for “I am
already drunk”. I cannot tell you how many times each week I hear, “I
only had two beers”. Two. That’s the code. Remember it! If anyone tells
you that they’ve only had “two” of anything, they are shit-faced liars
and you are an asshole for believing it.
When
I arrived in his 'hood I texted. He picked a place to meet for drinks. I
got there before him and was happily impressed with how low-key and
funny the bar was. Nothing like San Francisco. No attitude. No hipsters.
Just people of all ages singing karaoke, dancing to each other’s
karaoke, drinking strong drinks and reminding me why I miss San Jose so
much. One girl told me I looked great. What could be nicer? I drank my
vodka soda and hoped for the best. When he arrived I knew him
immediately. I gave him a strong hug. Those that know me know that I am
not a hugger. Touching people is hard for me. Looking people in the eye
is harder. I am extremely shy and insecure and anything other than
abject shyness is me projecting a suit of armor onto myself. He hugged
me back and kept saying how weird it was to see me after all this time.
Like over and over. Too many times. I suddenly felt bad. He grabbed a
stool and sat next to me and we started talking. I asked about his day,
how he was feeling, he had a hard time looking at me so I asked him,
“Are you okay?” and he said, “Yeah! It’s just so weird being here right
now!” Sigh.
Then
I did what girls do. I lost all sense of confidence and/or pride and I
asked him whether I still looked the same. I don’t know why. I don’t
know if I wanted his validation or if I wanted him to notice I put
effort into my style. I don’t know. He said, “You are WAY hot. You’re
hot. Tattooed, long blonde hair, dressed in black with heels...” and
then he said, “It’s surreal.” I had no words. That was really nice to
hear. He noticed me. And just as I relaxed a little a guy came up and
started a conversation with him. Suddenly, I was no longer there. They
were laughing and back slapping and telling each other stories. Drunken
stories. He was drunk. I suddenly knew.
I ordered another drink.
I
tried to connect with him, have a real conversation, and pretty much
everything he said made no sense to me. He said, “This is why we
shouldn’t have come to my territory. You know, because I know everyone.”
What? But um, you suggested this place.
“We should have met on neutral ground.” Are we fighting? Is something wrong? Neutral? Like Switzerland?
I
tried to change the subject, “Hey, I saw a really cool abandoned
storefront up the street and I’d love to go check it out do you want to
walk there with me?”
Him: “What?”
I repeated myself. Twice. Then I finally said, “Hey, do you want to go with me outside and get some air?”
Him: “I just ordered a drink!” Oh. Awesome.
So
I left my purse on the bar and went outside for a minute. It was super
quiet on the street except for the happy karaoke sounds from the bar. I
started to cry.
After
a few minutes, I went back in and we made small talk. I said that I had
to go to the bathroom, he pointed it out, and I went. When I got back
to the bar he wasn’t there. His drink was gone as well. I thought maybe
he joined the crazy conga line that was now dancing through the bar. He
wasn’t in it. I looked around. He wasn’t there. I honestly didn’t even
know how to process him leaving so I got my stuff and stepped outside to
leave. Just then, my phone rang and it was him.
“Hey, I’m over here, across the street.”
I looked up and he was sitting in his car. Calling me.
??
On my phone, I asked while staring at him why he left.
He said, “I’m right here in my car, don’t you see me?” Yes. I see you clearly.
Still on my phone, I told him I was going to check out that storefront.
He said into his phone, while still looking at me, “Come here.”
I
hung up my phone and yelled across the street, “Um, no! This is totally
fucking freakish and I have no idea what’s going on right now!”
He yelled out his car window, “Hey! Come here!” and I kept walking. What. The. Fuck?
I took a walk then returned to my car. I called his phone and he picked up like nothing had ever happened.
“Hey!”
“Why the fuck did you leave me in that bar?!”
“It’s like a beacon.”
“What?! What the fuck does that mean?”
“I just do that.”
“You do what? Just leave people?”
“Yeah. I just leave.”
“That’s psychotic.”
“It’s like a beacon to live here.”
“You make no fucking sense at all.”
“Where are you?”
“WHERE AM I?! I’M IN MY FUCKING CAR FREAKING OUT!”
“Do you see me?”
“What?! Holy shit am I in a horror movie right now!?”
“What? Can you see me? Where are you?”
“Oh. My. God. I’m in my Dodge Magnum where are YOU?!”
And
then I see him. Walking toward my car, talking to me on his cell. Jesus
please get me out of this acid-trip reality show immediately.
He knocks on the passenger door. I let him in. He sits down.
“Hey.”
“What the fuck is WRONG with you?!”
“I don’t know.”
“Who
DOES that?! Who leaves someone in a bar in a neighborhood they don’t
really know after asking them to come all the way down and meet them?”
“Me I guess.”
“Are you a fucking psycho? I think you may be a psycho actually.”
“Do you hate me?”
“What?!
I don’t hate anybody. I think you’re insane. I mean, if you wanted to
leave the bar that’s all you had to say. You could have said, ‘Melisa I
want to go home. Nice seeing you.’ If you never wanted to see me again
that’s all you had to say!”
“That’s how you want it?”
“Yeah, if you don’t want to see me again you don’t fucking leave me in a bar. You just tell me.”
“Wow. Okay. If that’s how you want it.”
“That’s how YOU want it.”
He looks really really sad and goes to get out of the car and says, “So that’s it?”
Me:“What?”
Him:“You never want to see me again?”
Me: “Oh my God, please go home.”
He
shuts the door and starts to walk away. I put my head in my hands
trying to process the pure hellish weirdness I have just experienced. He
had walked back to my car without me knowing and touched me on the
shoulder through my open car window. “Hey.”
“GO AWAY FROM ME!”
“Really?”
“YES! Just GO!”
And he walks away looking really hurt.
I
sat there for a good ten minutes trying to figure it out and decided
that I will never figure it out. I have deleted his cell phone number
and all of our correspondence and hope to never, ever, hear from him
again.
The memories I now have are far worse than any I may have stored in the “teenage memory section” of my head.
It was like a beacon...
