the mormon

that is what my whole family called him.  yes, he was mormon, but i didn’t care.  i didn’t think he cared that i wasn’t.  we were in high school.  junior and senior year, it was a tortured/forbidden type of relationship. 

he wanted me bc he would be breaking the rules and i wanted him because i thought him breaking rules to be with me was a gallant testament of his feelings for me.  both of us were wrong.  when love is about everything else, and not about the person you’re with, it will never work.  and that is what happened.  at one point he told me he “wanted to be with [me] forever, and all [i] had to do [is] convert.”  i said “no.”

he was quickly distracted by another girl, one who was catholic AND had a boyfriend.  she was a hussy.  yeah, i said it.  he never cheated on or broke up with me…he just ignored me to the point where i we might as well not be dating, so i broke up with him.  it was cool, mutual.  we had never had sex, so it was a pretty easy break after a 6 or 7 month thing.

he went to jmu, and had a bad break up with the hussy.  she cheated on him.  what?  was i surprised?  no, i wasn’t.  because that is what hussies do.  but i skipped the “i told you so” conversation and just asked if he was ok.  when he asked me to come up there from tech, i was nervous.  i mean, we had established a firm friendship, but i wasn’t sure if he was expecting any sympathy or rebound gestures on my part. 

well, he was, but i didn’t oblige.  i mean, come on.  we didn’t really talk again.  not that i remember. 

he’s married now.  not mormon.  married another ex-mormon.  that sounds good…seems like they figured that out.

something that i find interesting as i write this and remember is my consistant need for the big gesture.  why do i need the men in my life to make some huge thing to prove they want to be with me?  why is the idea of being in a relationship with me so ridiculous, that i feel the need to substantiate it with some life changing decision?  the christian, the columbian, the mormon, all tortured relationships, without clean easy ends.  why have i always been so uneasy about it?  what is wrong with me?

 

***vegas is leaving for fredricksburg today and i won’t see him until sunday night or monday.   i’m stressed about this.  well, not really.  i’m stressed that i miss him already.  we had dinner last night.  and the night before.  i am crazy about him, and he’s the same way.  i feel like i’m falling thru quicksand when i’m not with him, and when he is around, i am so still, and calm, and things are better.

the columbian

i met the columbian freshman year in college.  he was a friend of a friend,  a few years ahead of me, 21 and no good.  during the first 2 years of college i didn’t drink at all.  i’m sure i was the only one.  really, i think i was the only one at virginia tech who didn’t drink.  people would ask me if i was religious, and i’d say “no.” so then they’d think i was a rehab case….i was just more interested in making sure my friends were safe.  i was the designated driver everywhere, i was fun, i danced and hung out, but just didn’t engage in the drinking.

i met the columbian and he and i had some serious chemistry.  he is still one of the most beautiful men i know.  he is the kind of guy girls write songs about.  shakespeare would have written a play about him.  he has dreamy thick black hair, tan olivy skin and the most entrancing blue eyes i’ve ever looked into.  i felt like when he looked at me he could see my soul and that he was one of the few people who actually saw me.  i loved to hear him say my name.  i felt like he was the only one who could say my name right. 

one night, we were out and crashed at one of the matt’s house.  he was drunk, we were on the futon and i didn’t put up too much of a fight.  he was charming and SO hot and i loved his hands all over me.

we were never “together.”  i made out with other guys, he with other girls, but we both kept coming back to each other.  we spent many nights together and i saw another side of the columbian.  he would drink so much and black out every weekend.  there were times i wrestled bottles of liquor away from him because i was afraid of the volume of liquor that he was consuming.  strangely, i was one of the few people who could get thru to him.

in these drunken states he would say things like “you know me like no one else,  “you and i have the same heart,” and “you and i would be so great.”  and in the same breath he would say “i hate you, miranda, i hate you” in the most horrible voice you can imagine.  i never knew what to believe.  eventually i distanced myself from him, believing he wasn’t able to get close to anyone romantically.  we remained good friends, great friends, best friends.  we were constantly together.  it was him, one of the matts and me.  i watched his pup when he was away, i met his family.  we became buddies, but occasionally he would regress. 

i remember one night on his girlfriend’s birthday, he pulled me aside and said “remember today, when we saw that acident on 460 and you said ‘i hope no one was hurt?’” and i said “um, yeah.”  he said “that is why i love you, there is no one else like you and i love the way your heart is.”  i will never forget that night.  i walked away, pulled away from him, embarrassed for his girlfriend at the intimate way he spoke to me.  and the way he looked at me….it made me weak.

he graduated, his parents moved, i lost my phone with his number and we lost touch.

when i moved back to the area, i met him and his girlfriend of 6 years.  she is nice, sweet, and utterly forgettable.  i hate to say it.  i didn’t remember her name until i was in a yoga class with her.  i don’t understand why or how they got together, but it doesn’t matter, not really.  he looks the same and he looks at me the same.  he sees me.  he knows me.

we hung out for awhile.  i would say i saw him twice a month.  he would text message me across the table while his girl was there “you are the best person i know.”  he is still impossible but at least he doesn’t drink like he used to.

we have a few lunches alone, just him and me.  he tells me about problems in his relationship and how unhappy he is.  i tell him how i am still realizing how hard life will be going forward.  it gets deep, awkward.  we don’t know where to leave it.

eventually he stops hanging out.  i don’t think he can manage his feelings and i think he feels guilty.  so i give him space.  i feel like it is only fair.  when you know someone else needs room, you should give it to them.  that is what i do.

i haven’t seen the columbian in almost 9 months.  i miss him.  but as a friend. i am 100 percent ok with being his friend.  we had SO many chances to be together and there is a reason it never worked out.

i just hope at some point we can be friends like we used to be and that he will be ok with that.