31. Logic vs. Emotion

"So, I heard Addam saying something to Dan about going to Iraq?" Stephanie asked over breakfast one morning. Dan was one of Addam's friends. We tried to set Stephanie and Dan up, but long story short, it didn't work out.
"What? No, he's not even in the Navy anymore, so there's no way." She must have heard him wrong.
"Well, while you were getting ready last night they were on the couch talking about it. At least I'm pretty sure that's what I heard, but I could be wrong."
She better be wrong. She had to be wrong.
----
"So, what's this I hear about Iraq?" I asked as Addam and I were lying on his couch watching a movie.
"What? Where did you hear that?" He wasn't denying it.
"Is it true?" I was positive he was going to say, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Well, I applied for a contract job over there..."
Before he could finish his thought tears sprang to my eyes. I had no control of them. I didn't even know I was crying until he reached up to hold my face.
"Baby, don't cry. Please don't cry. I didn't get the job. Yet, anyway. Please don't cry. I didn't mean to upset you."
Tear after tear, they chased each other down my damp cheeks before Addam could wipe them away. He was panicking. He had no idea I'd react that way. I had no idea I'd react that way. But all of the feelings of being rejected by Cayden came pouring back. I was completely overwhelmed.
"Baby, please tell me why you're crying. I didn't get the job."
He didn't know about Cayden. I knew I had to explain so he didn't just think I was a crazy over-emotional girl, but the truth was, Addam had patched up the peice of my heart Cayden had broken. And right then, the patch was ripped off and I was crumbling.
"The last guy I fell for decided I wasn't worth a long-distance relationship. I can't go through this again. I can't do this." I was waiting for the hiccups and gasping that would inevitably come with my breakdown, but my voice was completely steady, almost calm. It was like my entire body was numb, but I could feel the hot tears pouring down my face.
"Brady?" Addam asked as he continued to wipe my face.
"No, Cayden." I didn't want to go into the whole story because I didn't want to hear the words come out of my mouth. But there was no easy way to sum him up. He looked confused.
"Well, please don't cry. I didn't get an offer yet, and I'd only go if I got an offer from the same place my friend works at. So chances are really slim. So please don't cry."
Addam hated Texas. He hated his job. But he liked me.
Within the next couple weeks, he talked about it more and more. If he got an offer, he'd move there for a year, and he'd make four times as much money as he was making here. "I'd have enough money buy a house when I came back!" He was so excited about it. He went from saying he probably wasn't going to get an offer to hoping and praying he was. The more he thought about the money, the more excited he got. As his girlfriend, I tried to be supportive. He wasn't choosing Iraq over me. "And I'll get TWO two-week vacations while I'm there," he said, his eyes lit up. "And they pay for the whole thing! I could take you to Greece or Bali. I hear they have great beaches in Bali!"
"Addam, you're forgetting something. I don't get that much vacation time. I only get 10 days a year, and I've already used two of those."
"Don't worry, I'll visit you for a week and then take you somewhere else for a week."
Sometimes when I thought about it that way, it sounded sort of exciting. I'd love to see the world with Addam. But was that really doable? Could I stay with him and only see him twice a year?
"I know this will be much harder for you than it is for me. I'll be in Iraq with only men. You'll be here, surrounded by men, so I understand if you don't want to do this." He was talking like he already got an offer. No, I was going to prove that he was worth it. I wasn't going to give up on this the way Cayden did.
"We'd be able to talk every day?" I asked.
"Yeah, it's not like I'd be fighting in the war or anything. We could talk on the phone every day."
I could do this if I needed to.
----
One night at my parents house, my mom and Addam got into a big discussion about it. Mom knew how crushed I'd be if he left.
"So this is about money? You think money is going to make you happy?" Mom asked him.
Meg, my younger sister, scooted closer to me and said, "Do you think we should save him?" I shrugged. I knew my mom would be able to say things to him I couldn't say, because I had to be the supportive girlfriend.
"I mean, it's a LOT of money. And I'm not happy right now. I'm struggling to get by," he explained.
"But when is it ever going to be enough? OK, so you go there for a year and you come back and buy a house, but then what? You'll spend the money, and then what?" Mom was on a roll.
"Then I'll have money to go back to school to learn something new. Air traffic control is the only thing on my resume. I don't even have a college degree, so I can't do anything else. And I hate air traffic control." He had a good point.
This went on, back and forth, until Meg stood up and said, "So, let's drink!"
On the way to the bar I asked him if I should have saved him from my mom's lecture.
"No, I loved it. She had good points."
"Why do you get mad when I try to talk you out of it?"
"Because your mom is being logical. You're just emotional."
"And you're being?"
"Smart."
This was the first night Addam had met Meg. We went to Pappa G's, one of the only bars in the city I grew up in. Addam rarely drank because he wasn't allowed to drink 12 hours before a shift. I was taking the next day off work. I had just finished a big cover story, and I hadn't missed a day yet, so I decided to take a day to myself. Another perk was that for once, Addam and I would get to sleep in together. He was off work also the next day.
"Why don't you drink tonight? I'll drive. You never get to drink."
"Are you sure?"
Ten mixed drinks and a Superman shot later, Addam was drunk. He's usually quiet, a little shy around new people. But with his liquid-courage, he was on a roll. He and Meg were cracking each other up. I loved drunk Addam. Who knew he was so outgoing and so damn funny? He wasn't slurring his words or acting belligerent, just relaxed and charismatic. Oh, and affectionate. He was usually shy about public displays of affection, but that night he had his arm around me, he kissed my neck in front of Meg and her friends. I started brainstorming ways to sneak him alcohol on a regular basis.
When we left the bar, I asked if we should sleep at his place or mine.
"Mine's closer. Want to stop at the gas station?"
My eyes lit up. I knew what this meant. It meant he was going to buy condoms. I was so excited I pulled into the first gas station I saw.
"OK, but if you pass out before we get back to your place, I'll kill you."
We went in and picked up a box of Trojans.
In the car he held my hand and talked about Iraq.
"Babe, if I go over there, all I'll do is work and work out. I'll get in such great shape, you won't even recognize me when I come back!"
I pictured him looking like Ronnie from Jersey Shore and gagged a little.
"But that means I'll have to get in shape, too," I complained.
"What are you talking about? I love your body. It's perfect," he said, then moved the seatbelt strap and turned to face me. "You're perfect, Whitney. You're everything I always wanted."
I loved drunk Addam. Even if we didn't have sex that night, those words were all I needed.
Good thing, because he spent the entire night and next day spooning the toilet.

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.