Showing posts with label hurt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hurt. Show all posts

Monday, May 24, 2010

19. The Replacements

There were a few more back-and-forth emails that I won’t bore you with. More of him explaining how much he likes me, but he’s just trying to be realistic. More of me saying I was hurt because it seemed like he didn’t think I was worth the hassle of a long-distance relationship. We were going in circles, and I knew I shouldn’t respond, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not talking to him, even if I was only accusing him of not caring about me.

Finally, I cut off communication. Every once in a while I’d respond, write down any mean, hurtful thing I could think of. But I’d delete it before I’d send it. I had to forget about him.

A facebook chat popped up later that week from my friend Brady. We had a *thing* back in college. It wasn’t dating because we didn’t go on dates. But it wasn’t just hooking up, either, because I can count the number of times we had sleepovers on one hand. I met him at a party. He was tall with brown hair and green eyes, and I could tell by the way his shirt tightened across his chest that he had a rock-solid body under there. He kissed me that night. I was drunk and thrilled.

Turns out we had a class together. Ballroom dancing of all classes. We waltzed, tangoed, foxtrotted, and cha-cha’ed together the rest of the semester. He’d come over on Monday nights to watch Laguna Beach. It was his guilty pleasure. He’d kiss me when he left, and sometimes he’d put his hand on my leg while we watched TV. But nothing ever came of us. He was switching schools after that semester, moving to Texas to attend chiropractic school, so he wasn’t interested in a serious relationship of any kind. That, and I’m pretty sure I was more interested in him than he was in me. Anyway, he moved that December and we kept in touch every now and then. He started dating a girl named Rae when he moved to Texas, fell in love, and had been with her ever since. Lucky bitch.

That was four years ago, so the random Facebook chat caught my attention.

B: Are you busy?
W: Not really, what’s up?
B: Things aren’t good with Rae.
W: Aww, I’m sorry. What’s going on?
B: I messed up.
W: Uh-oh, this doesn’t sound good.
B: We broke up. Well, she broke up with me.
W: OK, I’ll ask the obvious. Why?
B: Her mom and I kissed, and she found out.
W: WHAT???
B: We were really, really drunk. She kissed me. I didn’t pull away in time. Her cousin saw it and told Rae.
W: Holy shit. That poor girl.
B: I know, I really, really messed this up.
W: Well, I don’t really have sympathy for you right now, because that’s pretty fucked up. So, being that I’m not full of words of wisdom for you, is there anything else I can do for you?
B: Yes. I can’t stop thinking about her. I just want to call her, but she doesn’t want me. So, can I call you instead? You know, so I don’t call her?

Well, wasn’t that convenient? I needed someone to take my mind off Cayden, and he needed someone to take his mind off Rae. I knew I had to be careful though, because we were both vulnerable, and I was about to move back to Texas, where we’d be living in the same city. Sounded like a perfect set up for some really bad ideas down the road.

W: Of course, call me whenever you’d like.

My phone rang.

----

My roommates threw me the best going away party I could have asked for. We all dressed up and went out to a fancy restaurant none of us could afford. Then we threw a huge bash on our roof. Everyone came. That night, we had the most beautiful sunset I had ever seen in my time in NYC. Hell, it was the prettiest sunset I’d seen in my life. It symbolized a beautiful ending. An ending to my time in NYC. An ending to me and Cayden.



After the party, I wanted nothing more than to email Cayden to tell him all about it.

So I called Brady.

Sunday, May 23, 2010

18. "Lock it up."

I couldn't hide the tears. They ran down my cheeks non stop, as if one had to follow the other to keep the world in motion. What was wrong with me? I had only met him two moths ago, why did I care if he didn't want to pursue a long-distance relationship with me? I felt like an idiot. I had talked him up too much to too many people. So many times people said, "This guy sounds way too good to be true," or "I'll see it when I believe it." They were never going to get to see it (him), so I was going to get a big, fat "I told you so" slap in the face. I thought about crawling under my desk and just hiding there, in that tiny cubicle on the seventh floor of that nondescript building on Third Avenue. Instead, I hit reply. I had nothing brilliant to say yet, and I wanted him to feel bad. I wanted him to feel worse than I was feeling.

"Wow. I really wish I wouldn't have opened this email at work. I don't hide my tears well."
I hit send.

Take that, asshole.
I grabbed my bag and called it a day. I had to try to think of a way to get my mind off of that email. I knew Cayden was probably in bed dreaming about football and fish and chips and whatever British jackasses dream about. I had been on cloud nine since I met him, but no one told me that that cloud would turn into a black, rolling cumulonimbus cloud that would unleash and rain all over the parade I call life.
On my way to the 4/5 train, I gave every man who passed me a dirty look. Surely each one of them had broken some girl's heart before, so they deserved it. I transferred to the L train at Union Square and squeezed in with the rest of the Brooklyn-bound travelers. Usually I like to sit there and guess who’s getting off at which stop, and judge them accordingly. But not today. The only thing I could focus on was not bawling on the L train. No one wants to be that girl.
I jumped off at the Lorimer stop and followed the other Lorimerites up the steps in and into the warm September air. My phone beeped and I saw that I had an email. He replied. Cayden was still awake.

“Oh no, I'm soooo sorry, Whitney. Reading your short reply then, my heart fell into my stomach. I hate making people feel like that. I feel so crap right now. It's not been easy for me to say this in the slightest because I know you'd be upset, as I am, too. But I need to think realistically about exactly where this would go. It's been on my mind since the party and it's been killing me inside. Like I said though, I've experienced the downs that a long distance relationship brings and feeling what I did on Saturday, before I've even seen you again, it'll be a hundred times worse in December and I don't want to feel that low again.
 
I hate the thought of you crying Whitney, I like the image of smiley and bubbly Whitney better :) I'm trying to think of things to crack you up with but I'm stuck at the moment. It's not been easy you know. I've not met a girl like you in ages but the situation just sucks completely. It's probably best I don't contact you for a bit so you can get used to it so I'll just wait to hear back in a few days.-Cayden”

I don’t know what I expected him to say, but that email made me furious. His mind was obviously made up. It just wasn’t fair. Why was the ball in his court? I gave up on fighting off the tears and just let them roll as they wished. My apartment was just across the street. I didn’t mind being that girl for a few more steps. I tried to blink away the tears so I could see well enough to unlock the door. Then I trudged up the three flights of stairs to my place, crying all the way. Part of me dreaded walking through my door because I knew I’d have to explain myself to Lea and Alexa. I just wanted to jump onto my bed and put a pillow over my head and cry into my sheets. I’m not the type to want sympathy or advice or hugs. I wanted to cry it out, and then talk shit about him, with one of my girlfriends chiming in with the obligatory “What a dick!” comments when needed. I’ve always been awkward at dealing with crying people. I usually don’t hug. When people come to me with their problems, my usual response is, “Wow, that sucks,” and my take-away advice is, “Lock it up. Get your shit together.” I needed someone to say that to me right then.
I knew I could count on Lea. We’re the same way when it comes to dealing with emotional trainwrecks. And Alexa loves talking shit. My roommates rock.

That night, I couldn’t go to sleep until I typed out everything I wanted to say to him. I was still furious, but Lea and Alexa helped me get my shit together. So my email was somewhat civilized. Without that chat it would have just been a bunch of F-bombs strung together with a period at the end. I take that back. It definitely would have been a exclaimation point.

“Cayden,
So, there are so many things running through my head... so many things I want to say to you, but not sure what I should say. But I feel like if I don't say anything, I'm just going to sit here and keep thinking about it and crying and never get any sleep. You were honest with me about what you're feeling, and as much as it
SUCKED to hear, I have to thank you for your honesty.
So I guess I should be honest with you.
I'm hurt. VERY hurt. I keep trying to tell myself that I shouldn't be hurt, because you're just some boy I met for a night or two a few months ago, and I'm just a random girl you met on holiday. But you weren't just some boy to me, so I can't pretend like that's the case. I feel stupid and embarrassed for thinking I might have been something more than that to you. I never should have gotten my hopes up about you. I knew it was going to be hard if we were going to pursue any kind of long distance thing, but I thought you were worth it. All relationships/friendships come with good things and bad thing —things
that can hurt you, and things that can make you feel 100 percent happy and comfortable and perfect. You get through the bad so you can experience the good. Yes, it was going to suck to say goodbye to you when you went back to London in December, but that week in December with you would have been worth it. I understand that you've been through this with your ex, but at least she got a chance. I don't even get that.
I can't explain how happy I've been since I've met you. Every day I had something to look forward to, either an email from you or a chance to sit down with my computer to email you about something that happened to me that day.I’ve been so damn happy. Yeah, I'd get a little bummed, or frustrated, that we couldn't be experiencing things together, but I was still overall happy at the thought that I could still email you, or even call you, and you'd be interested in what I was saying. Actually, whenever I got a little bit sad about the fact that you're not here, I would just think about December — all the things we were going to get to do together, what it would be like to actually be with you, and then I'd be perfectly happy again.
A while back ago we talked about how our situation sounded like a movie or a book. You said something like, 'Hopefully we won't have to wait too long to see how it ends :)." Well, I guess you were right about that. If it were up to me, the story would have ended much differently, but I guess you're the one writing this story, and I have no say in it.
You say you still want to talk to me via email, but the only thing that made talking to you via email bearable was knowing I'd get to see you soon enough. Without that, I can't do this. You may be able to detach your emotions like that, but I can't. I can't just turn that off and pretend like you're just another guy, just a friend I met one random weekend.
It hurts to think that you can. -Whitney”

I hit send, closed my computer, rolled over on to my stomach, and prayed for sleep.