there was a man once, that i liked.
liked in that despairing way where you like someone who only sees you as a friend but yet loves to spend time with you. liked in this kind of hopeless and yet not sort of way. i always knew it wouldn’t work out in the end and i always knew it would be okay that it didn’t but nonetheless i wanted him.
i didn’t want him the way all the girls i knew did, not that he wasn’t cute and funny and totally chaseable but i was never into the big man on any campus. wasn’t then and still aren’t now.
but then i got to know him away from the campus in question.
it was suggested that i call him to help myself through some emotional trauma and i did and he did. he took care of me the way only that kind of man can: with weed and beer and lots and lots and lots of laughing with just a little emotional catharsis and pizza when needed. in fact he did exactly what i needed.
what’s funny is that now? years later (like eight at least) i don’t actually remember what was upsetting me that long and awesome summer. i cannot for the life of me think of what had me so bummed i was calling a man i hardly knew for distraction. funny because it was big whatever it was.
i was newly ex-married and he was newly ex-dogged (as in his beloved dog died) but neither of these are the reasons we hung out and in truth, the reasons don’t matter.
i had this hopeless crush on him and spent all my time with him. watching him flirt with my sister nearly killed me. watching my sister flirt with him nearly killed her! *kidding geeze* but through it all there was a deep and abiding something there between us.
cut to now. in fact cut to a couple of days ago when i get in a chat with his new roommate. new roommate because he and his long-term live-in lady friend have split up. there we are chatting away and my friend tells me that this man that i once liked deeply, this man who i will always have a soft spot in my heart for… that this man asked if i was still hot.
which is funny because that is EXACTLY the same question i asked.
and then our mutual friend continues on and comments that this man and i are ‘exes’ really and though i protested that we never made physical contact he informed me that nonetheless we were considered exes in his mind.
that in fact he’s sure of it. that he can tell.
and so i ask him why.
and can you guess what he says? he says that this man talks about me in the EXACT SAME WAY that i talk about him. with fondness and caring and continued concern for my well being.
he says that’s it’s obvious the two of us care about each other and that though we never officially dated he still thinks of us as exes. and you know? i can see it. i can see it because this man is more significant to me than are several men i actually fucked and even a few that i made love with.
why is this blogworthy?
two reasons, the first is the simplest. that there is something deeply satisfying about knowing that this man who was significant to me felt the same way about me. that the feeling WAS mutual.
the second?
oh my FUCK HOW STUPID WERE WE???????????????????????? ???????????????????????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????????????????????
(that we would have split up regardless is totally irrelevant to the stupidity involved in spending hundreds of hours together and NEVER MAKING A MOVE.
humans are morons.)
