Friday, April 27, 2007

bragging rights

Friday night was very depressing for me. It might have started on Thursday, when I decided there was no better time to get going on cleaning out my inbox, file folders, and desk drawers. I came across a lot of sentimental stuff and threw away (recycled!) even more every-day things. The throwing away (RECYCLING!) got to me more than the sentimentaling (I know it doesn't exist, k?) because it solidified my current situation. That magazine clipping I've been holding on to for two years, intending to someday imitate for our alumni magazine? Well, I won't be writing for another issue of the magazine, so I can toss that. The note about how to fix the installation for my scanner? It's not my scanner anymore, and I won't ever use it again, so that can go. I even sighed a little as I was shredding my employee benefits information, because I won't ever have to visit another Rensselaer PPO doctor.

Regardless of when it began, Friday evening culminated with the realization that my problem of letting other people get to me is still at large. Then, as the icing on my cake, I was forced to make small talk with a boy I once had very strong feelings for... and his skanky, horse-faced girlfriend who might as well have been cemented to the sleeve of his jacket because she never once let go of his arm.

This boy and I have been friends for years - very, very close friends - and we've gone out on many dates. And these dates were not just regular, plain old dates. They were record-breaking, earth-shattering dates. Dates that promised conversation so engrossing that we'd often not notice the waitstaff glaring at us and loudly clearing their throats, having already closed the restaurant and cleaned up around us. Dates that felt as comfortable as a lazy Saturday morning curled up on the couch with a good book, a spring breeze, and your most comfortable sweatpants. And most importantly, dates that were special enough to make the memory of every horrible date I'd ever gone in my entire life nothing more than an insignificant speck of dust on the shelf of life.

In short, I considered him a very special boy and our relationship a very special thing, and I was constantly reassured that he felt the same way.

A few months ago, out of the complete blue, he stopped returning my calls and emails. If I saw him around, he'd wave from across the room but never come over to say hi. He stopped asking our mutual friends about me - stopped telling them how much he cared for me. I didn't know what to make of it, and quite honestly, I was pretty hurt for a while. Not having balls large enough to simply ask him what was up, I assumed the worst, of course, and decided that he'd met someone better. He's a pretty shy guy - which, admittedly, is one of the first things that attracted me to him - and I figured he just didn't know how to tell me that he'd moved on.

I wasn't expecting him to flaunt the piece of ass he'd moved on to right in my face. Since I was at work, I had to sit at the greeting table after our reception until every guest had exited the room. He and his ho stood directly in front of me for nearly 45 minutes, and I was stuck there, sitting dumbly behind the table the entire time without a coworker in sight to save me or at least pretend to talk to me. I watched as she winked at me and flipped her hair every time she laughed at one of his effortless jokes. She "we"-d him - exclaimed "We'd love to see you there!" He didn't even tell me her name.

Most heartbreakingly, he leaned into her. One of my favorite intimate actions a man can take is to lean into a woman. Not hug her, not put his arm around her, but simply lean his body into her. Let her support his weight for a moment before breaking contact. Nothing more than a sway of his body into her general direction, but an action that says so very much.

She's tall and leggy and blonde. Her laugh sounded like nails on a chalkboard. She has sleek hair in a stylish cut. Her dress left not a single thing up to the imagination. She agreed with or reaffirmed every word that came out of his mouth the entire night.

Everything I like about myself went completely out the window in favor a short black skirt and a yes-(wo)man. And I've never felt worse.

13 comments:

Megan said...

She doesn't hold a candle to you, and she probably knows it. That's why she has to make up for it by being a dumb bimbo. She probably wasn't even naturally blonde.

becky said...

lol thanks, Sis B. That cheered me up. And redheads are better than blondes, anyway ;)

KC said...

She sounds insecure and he sounds like a coward for backing away from what he had with you.

I wish I could say something to renew your faith in Men, but I am not exactly their biggest cheerleader right now.

I could Soooo go for a Men-suck-ladies-night. It always feels good to have a good bitch session with friends. That way - if you cry, you have someone to make you feel better - and order you a shot.

becky said...

KC - Thanks. I couldn't agree more. Lots of types of pain can be smoothed over with some good vodka, a sturdy shot glass, and a patient friend. You deserve that right now more than anyone.

AAWG said...

All I have to say is:
"He didn't even tell me her name."

I may not know the situation - okay so I don't at all - but this sentence speaks volumes.

Maybe he has moved on, for now or permanently. However, him not able to mention her name? I'd think if he wanted to make you sure of his new found status or if she excited him, he would introduce her. Maybe those feelings might not be so dead after all.

Ah, either way. You have a lot of doors to close it seems, and that does not go without mourning. This is a big life change for you all around. Go ahead and cry about it for a week or two - it's okay. This will clear the slate for what's to come. And by that, I mean when you move to Algonquin and we find you the guy who proves awesome enough to be given the privilege of calling himself yours. :)

Aunt Becky said...

I had a dude like that. Honestly, looking back, I'm pretty sure that he's gay.

Anonymous said...

Hey there,
sometimes we give people more credit than they deserve.

Anais Nin said that every single man she admired, ended up crumbling at her feet and only at that time would she realize that what she thought was gold, turned out to be just clay.

So i guess you have a pretty big pile of clay at your feet right now...
I'm so sorry.

becky said...

Miss Hum - You are so awesome. Thank you so much for the heartfelt words... and for lightening the mood at the end. Algonquin ROCKS! :)

Becky - LOL - in college a lot of people thought this particular guy was gay, too. Might have a ring of truth to it! ;)

Alicia - You should be a therapist. You always have some awesome words of wisdom or some literary genius to quote. Maybe just a therapist for English geeks or something. I've never read even a bit of Anais Nin - so intimidating - but that's really a beautiful thought. I like the idea of the gold crumbling to clay, which brings about the possibility of molding it into something new - something you can't do with gold. That's comforting. Thank you.

PS - You guys completely rock my world. Just know that.

KC said...

Hey you don't have an e-mail button either! Or at least not one that works...

becky said...

wtf? It should work... stupid blogger. It's in my profile and on my sidebar. cheesestandsaloneblog@gmail.com - original, right? Can't wait to hear from you, KC :)

KiKi said...

Three things occurred to me: 1) They directly in front of you for 45 minutes.At the reception/greeting table. At a function/party where the expectation is that you'd mingle and er... party. You didn't have a choice, they did. Score one for Becky. 2) As good as you say she looked - something about you made her insecure, hence the "flaunting." Bet she knew she couldn't hold a candle to you. Another point for Becky. (And another point because I bet he told her about you.) 3) He, knowing your shared history, chose to stand there and flaunt?make you jealous? prove a point?make an ass of himself?all of the above? None of these point to him being a great guy - which means he doesn't deserve you. But then again, that's just bitter ole me talking, lol.

You're beautiful, smart, and ambitious, and no yes-woman. Don't settle for any less than you deserve. And if this guy is great let him either step up to the plate like a real man or shove off.

Anonymous said...

I'm sorry, Becky...I didn't know he was dating women.

As a guy friend of yours that sometimes lets other women take up too much of my time, I feel like he probably didn't mean anything by dropping off the face of your earth for a while. You're probably right, he likely didn't know how to say what needed to be said. But....whatever he was trying to prove at that event....pssh. What a tool.

Word Verification: rmdslw - Real men don't sweat L****'s woman. I don't know what that means, but I tried!

Anonymous said...

Is it wrong that I'm racking my brain to see if I know who this person is?

Wait 'til you leave Rensselaer, Becky. The dating possibilities will be endless, and the chances of you finding somebody who actually deserves you will quadruple. :)