Where do we go? Who knows.
Needless to say, after I'd had the courage to confront This One and lay it on the front line, take it or leave it, and he'd made it clear that "we'd had our chance," my ego was a bit bruised. I wouldn't have stepped up to the plate if I couldn't have taken the hit, and I'm not upset that I did. But I needed a moment or two to sweep my sopping puddle of an ego off the floor. Blame it on my introversion. I needed space.
The monday after this fortuitous event, I was sitting at work ploughing through some editorial for a project I'm working on when I received an email. This One is an Apple geek to the core, so we often use iCal to invite one another to different things.
Low and behold, less than 24 hours after taking a hard sock to the heart, This One decided to invite me to an alumni club event of ours. I started boiling inside.
I'm not immune to anger. I used to be able to retain it better when I was younger, more patient, more naive and less able to defend myself. I used to hold my tongue more and speak my mind less.
Cool your jets. Cool them. Ignore it.
So ignore it I did. With pitiful, pitiful music à la Miley Cyrus's "Wrecking Ball". Drowned myself in my headphones and my work. But ohhhhh did I want to give him a piece of my mind.
I lasted till Friday, when I then declined the invitation, and shot him a virulent email to the effect of ¨OH HI, YOU JUST REALLY PUNCHED MY EGO. DO YOU THINK I MIGHT WANT SOME SPACE? AND WHY ARE YOU INVITING ME TO SOMETHING YOU KNOW I'D GO TO ANYWAY!?¨
Then I felt terrible.
All weekend.
* * *
I felt terrible until Monday when I texted him saying I was sorry. He responded:
¨For what?¨
¨For everything.¨
Everything meaning my complete and total way (I know) of over reacting, of being emotionally intense (sorry folks...it comes with the high IQ), of complicating things unnecessarily.
I told him congrats on his new job, that I'd heard through the grapevine (Ambroise) and was happy for him.
* * *
Things calmed after that. I invited Ambroise impromptu to come to a Thanksgiving feast my friend T, an adorable Brit I know from work, and I were throwing at her place for our friends. We're both foodies and love to feed people. He said he'd see, but wasn't sure if he could come. He had plans.
So, as a gesture of good will, I invited This One to stop by. He thanked me for the invitation, but had plans as well. Then the triangle got more complicated. I texted Ambroise to see about drinks after Thanksgiving dinner. To which he responded that he, This One and I should hang out sometime together:
¨Il faut qu'on se prenne un verre tous les trois.¨
¨Yes, but the hardest part will just be coordinating you two. I have a much more flexible schedule than you both!¨
¨Why not this Saturday? I mean, you did invited This One to Thanksgiving, didn't you?¨
Ugh. Sh*t.
I hadn't told him that I'd invited This One, but had meant no ill will by it. I simply hadn't invited anyone and since This One is more or less American at heart, I figured he'd want to come celebrate. This One must have told Ambroise at their weekly dinner, as I'd discovered they meet once a week to talk business, women and life.
* * *
After dinner on Saturday, I texted Ambroise to see if he still wanted to grab a drink. This had switched to tea at his place. I said I'd be over, but then I got fed up: why did I always have to trek all the way across town in the freezing cold to go and see him?
Frenchmen, I find, have a way of placing you approximately at a fixed space in their schedules. You get a time slot and they get comfy with it. I don't do this well. This was precisely my bone of contention with This One. I wasn't about to tolerate it with Ambroise.
SO, food comatose and slightly ticked, I told him that I was instead going to go home.
* * *
Later that week, confused and in a tail spin, I ran across a bulletin for a Pixar exhibition at the Musée d'Art Ludique. This One is a huge, huge Pixar fan. The first movie we saw together was Monsters University in 3-D. I still have our 3D glasses sitting on my bookshelf.
I took a picture, sent it to This One, and asked him if he'd want to go. He shot me an invite on iCal for December 7th.
* * *
A few days before, This One texted me saying he was sorry, but he'd have to cancel our Pixar rendez-vous. BUT, and there's always a BUT he added, he wanted to reschedule for the week after and tickets were on him.
¨Ok, no problem.¨
"I'm so sorry my schedule is always shifting. I'll get back to you this weekend.¨
¨No worries.¨
¨I feel really bad about it.¨
¨Don't feel bad about it. You shouldn't feel bad for having a life.¨
At that point, I felt reassured that I'd made the right decision about us in October. I knew right then and there that had I continued being his WHATEVER in this way, I would've resented the always-shifting-schedule and feeling like I was always second. Now that I was no longer his WHATEVER, I wasn't upset because there were no strings attached and hence, no expectations.
That weekend, we texted back and forth. He was still unsure of his schedule. The man is legit insanely busy, so I understand. Believe it or not, I know this isn't a pretext of his to not see me. At least I've come to learn this.
¨Ok, but I leave the 19th. If you can't do Pixar before then, at least let me know when you might be free for a quick drink so I can give you your present.¨
¨What? A present? Tell me tell me! Just one hint.¨
¨It's nothing big. Just something that reminded me of you.¨
¨Ok.¨
¨You were the kid who went looking for where his mom his the presents before Christmas, weren't you!?¨
¨I was,¨ he confessed.
¨YES, CALLED IT! haha. Well, have a good one and see you soon. Ciao bello.¨
And even though I felt like I'd made the right decision about us, it didn't stop me from feeling, in that very exchange, like he'd felt sorry for being so busy. That he'd finally understood why I'd reacted the way I did in October. That he finally got that I got him.
For better or worse, with This One there is always, always a 'but'....
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