You’ve Got Mail: The Text Edition

7 Sep

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When old acquaintances meet after a long spread of time, and play the “I remember” game…it kind of fascinates me how vastly the perspectives can change or how their past secrets and interpretations become revealed in retrospect.

History is a funny thing.

In the present tense, everyone is so very insistent to guard and protect their feelings, thoughts and intentions. Truth becomes the unspoken risk you never seem to take.  Which is asinine, because it is the only time that you are able to actually “do” anything about it.  But when you look back on a situation…after a certain amount of water has passed under the bridge, you realize how pointless it was to play your hand so close to the chest…to mistrust options or ideas…to hold back.

…Sometimes you miss out on things.

And yet, every once in a while, fate realigns you with a past opportunity (or person) from seemingly out of nowhere.  Suddenly, all the places that missed connection the last time, just don’t anymore. And what is exciting about that is skipping all the “crap parts” and going straight for the meat of the matter.  The conversation can get intense and goofy and real and wild and random…because there is zero judgement, expectation or care in attempting to be anything other than what you are, and where you are, in your life. 

“This is me, no holds bar,” you seem finally able to say.

Why is it different now?

Who knows.

…There is certainly no less baggage to carry. You’ve spent maybe the better part of a decade ADDING to the luggage set, not taking away from it. And there is no reason to assume that what might have happened once, will actually do so now,  just because a person writes another person out of the blue one day and says, “Hey, remember me?”

Of course I do.

…I remember the “you” back then, and you remember that “me.”

…And we will talk about the costume I was wearing, or that thing you said, or the party we went to…the other people around us at the time, and where their lives have lead to; like we are the oldest of friends and no time has really passed at all. You will tell me funny confidences. I will tell some of mine to you. And all the while in my head I’m thinking, “This might actually be one of the most bizarre conversations that I have ever had.”

“…It was that show, that’s when I thought that–”

” –You just liked the ‘boob’ dress is all.”

“…Whatever happened to [Him]?”

“–He got married…amazing woman…you’d like her a lot.”

“…And having drinks at that bar, after the other show?  My last one for a long while. The Ex never understood that whole deal…”

” There was a small group of us. Who-all was at the table…?”

” That was about five years later than the first show.  And about six before now.”

” …You were seeing that one girl at the time…”

” It was [blank], I think.”

“–I never met her.”

” Nice girl.”

” Then I heard you got married.  Had the boys and all.”

” And now…”

” And now.”

(Long pause.)

***

…Clearly, tonight has been a mind-fuck of “woa.”

…What I think I need most of all is a little bit of thoughtful perspective, here. I need to realize that though this is great, (catching up and all)…there is absolutely no reason that anything out of the ordinary, would somehow make anything “different” from where I was sitting yesterday.  After all, there are real ACTUAL obstacles that exist this time around, far larger than the scale we were playing with all those years ago.  Whole lives are in existence that were not, and relationships have ensued, and consequences must be dealt with…and all the things that life likes to throw at you when you are just trying to get through from one part of it to the next, are scattered all over the floors in both of our houses right now.

…Everything is so messy in the real world.  Which is a nightmare to people like me, who live with their “just so’s” of organized specificities. 

…And you CAN live like that. With the dedication of a Buddhist Monk.  I know.  I’ve practically mastered it.

…But what “if”…

…What “if” you feel like maybe…just for a second…you might not always want to?

…And what if, “Do you like wine?” is asked in total innocent and honest curiosity…because he knew you far before your pallet for it (and many other things) ever even existed.

“Ohhhhh. Yes…” I answer back via one of over 180 texts, now indexed just under his name.

“Woot!  I know just where we’ll go on our first ‘date’,” he says…waiting as to how I’ll respond to that.

…I’m sorta intrigued really, to find out myself.

…Will I “correct” him? Do the usual run-down of my philosophies on why I think “dating” is total complete shit? That it is an impetus for people to spend half their time covering up who they really are, pretending to be things they are not but assume the other person would really want?  Should I pick now to inform him that I also quite suck at “being a girl?” That I far prefer hanging out at the house in my pajama pants watching a movie, to dressing up like a hooker and joining in on the clubbing meat-market scene on a Friday night?  At what point do I bring up the fact that I refuse to be his mother (if he’s into that kinda deal)…that I’m really really stubborn, and sometimes I just need to be left the fuck alone.  Preferably with a book.  And why in the HELL is all this shit piling up and making me anxious just because of one word?

…One word.

It’s a word I avoid.  And always have.  At almost any cost. 

…And he said it so easily…just with a toss.  Like it took no effort in the least.  No anxiety of what the answer might be.  No worries on how I would take it, or what I would do with it, once it was “out there.”

The message just kept staring at me.

…Then I thought of the unbelievable balls it must have taken just to write me from out of nowhere to begin with.  Then make the effort to catch up with me.  Then listen as I tried to tell “amusing” anecdotes about people we know (or used to) and where they are now.  Then LOL at my stupid witticisms…and pretend I don’t horribly overuse the words “awesome” and “totally” and ellipsis in general.

This guy is STAND-UP.  HE: IS A MAN. 

…He has gone through God only knows how much of my shit from the “then” me, to the “now”…even in the last several hours.  And I think he deserves to get something out of all that, don’t you?

…But then I said, “I’m in,” anyway. 

…Because he doesn’t know yet, that me saying “no” would really just be doing him a favor.  And he might not know that for a couple of days .  But by the end of the “date,” I assure you: he will. 

…And THAT is when I will explain how sometimes, not getting what you think you wanted at the time, is really a “good” thing.

…However he responds after that, is when the real game actually begins.

Open bets. Any takers?

~D

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2 Responses to “You’ve Got Mail: The Text Edition”

  1. nire September 9, 2012 at 12:52 pm #

    Not much of a gambler, but I look forward to hearing what happens next.

    • She Writes A Little September 9, 2012 at 1:22 pm #

      Me too…while trying to pretend I’m not freaked out at all by it…

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