Blast from the past…

Alternative Titles:  "The Dangers of Facebook" Or "It was 50% your fault for engaging in the first place…"

I love Facebook.  Love.  I'm on LinkedIn as well, but I'm not really into it - which is probably unwise.  Anyway a man, John, asked to Connect with me on LinkedIn.  I think I've mentioned my lack of skill in recognizing people in previous posts.  I also have an issue with my past.  As in I remember so many details, just not the same details others do.  Sometimes my memory bugs people because I remember so much…well, I guess it bugs them when I don't remember what they do as well.

So I get this request, but I don't recognize the name.  I look to see who we are mutually linked to.  Grad school friends.  Hmmmmm.  Still can't remember.  I decide not to Link.  Just let it go.

Next stop.  Facebook.  The same person, John, sends me a Friend request.  Dammit.  Why can't I remember?  The request sits there for weeks (where it should have remained) but I finally accept it.  As soon as I accept, an email comes in saying, "What have you been up to?"  Ugh.  Who are you?  I don't reply.

Cut to voting day.  I take a picture of everyone going out to vote for Barak or McCain.  The line was huge.  Long.  (We really did come out and vote that day.)  I post the picture on Facebook and John writes, "This would be a good day to catch up with old friends."  He's obviously not going away.  Fine.  FINE.  I write him and say that I'm so sorry, but I can't remember him.  That his name is familiar, but that's all.  Can he give me a clue?

Yeah.  So it seems I not only starred in a play with him in grad school, but we might have made out as well.  The thing is, I had a very serious boyfriend.  The whole time.  So part of me not remembering could possibly be guilt - it's the only time I've ever cheated.  It was only kissing, but that's still cheating.  Of course the other reason could be that he was the wrong choice.  Always the wrong choice.  But back to our story...

From this inauspicious re-beginning, John and I started emailing back and forth.  A lot.  And then, as sometimes happens, it got very flirty.  Very fast.  Then we upped it to speaking on the phone.  It was like a runaway train.  And I can't really explain him.  I'm sure there are others out there of his kind, but I'd never quite experienced this…and hope never to again.  First of all, I think the crazy attracted me.  (I hate to admit I was probably crazy at this point in my life too, drat.) And his desperation.  I was the only one that could fix things or have the right answer.  It wasn't even that I thought I was all knowing, it was like putting my finger in the dam and hoping to save the dike.  It was suddenly all declarations and ultimatums….  You see, we lived across the country from each other.  He had kids, so he said he could never move until they were all 18.  I understand that.  Absolutely.  It is important to note here that he moved to my state not long after we stopped "seeing" each other for work…  It's also important to note that we'd not even seen each other when we had this conversation.  For god's sake.  CART BEFORE HORSE!!!!

I digress.

We began talking everyday.  For hours on end.  Reconnecting, "getting to know each other."  I told him my life.  What I'd been doing.  My beliefs, my friends, my family.  He did the same.  It also came up at some point that he had a team of psychiatrists.  I probably brushed this under the carpet because my mother was a therapist, but still - how idiotic did I need to be?  A TEAM? 

He wanted all my attention.   If we were chatting when I was on the way to meet friends, he didn't want me to get off the phone when I arrived.  I'm not sure if he just wanted me to sit in the car and talk…wait, yes I am.  Because he did.  And I did.  Quite a bit.  It seemed a bit odd, but I went along with it.  Willingly.  I remember before we'd even seen each other that we had a discussion about how long we "could go on this way" without one of us moving.  I suggested that we could do it for a year or two.  He literally gasped.  He said he could never be in a relationship like that.  He would need me there.  Within 3-6 months.  I was surprised.  Everyone has done or does long distance, right?  For some reason I suppose I thought this meant he really liked me…

Then we upped the ante…as one always does.  John and I made plans for me to fly to him.  I remember being really scared when I booked that Southwest ticket.  But I clicked the PURCHASE button.  (Oh dear.)   But then we couldn't wait.  So we made plans for him to fly to me the week before.  Yes, this is all SO genius.  So now we've booked two trips, yet we haven't seen each other for over 20 years.  Yeah.  Positive thinking.  Or psychotic thinking.  Guess I was on the crazy train.  100% committed.  Bring it on. 

He came to visit for a holiday weekend.  My friends were having a party on the night he arrived.  I was there and he took a taxi to the location.  Quite brave of him actually.  And we had a great time.  He met my friends.  He was nice…but slightly inappropriate.  Or just plain inappropriate.  I think he suggested to my best friend that she be in our wedding (wow) and that she might be next after me.  But I was on the roller coaster.  Red flags be damned.  He asked me to marry him.  On that first visit.  He told me he had never asked anyone to marry him since his ex-wife.  In retrospect, I bet this is an enormous lie. 

I was occasionally freaked out during the visit.  Too much too fast.  But before he left, I took my dog for a walk and thought, fuck it.  Give it a chance.  And when I arrived back to my apartment I said, "OK.  Let's really give this a try (I might have mentioned six months) and see what happens."  He said, "Oh.  Wow.  Now wait a minute."  Uhm…this is after he'd asked me to marry him two days before and I was merely suggesting long distance dating.  It's not a red flag, it's a red sheet, a red tsunami.    Basically, as I got more comfortable with him, he distanced himself.  Have I mentioned how hot I USED to think unavailable guys were? 

We said good-bye.  He was comfortable.  I was suddenly off balance.  Power shift.  He went home and I was to visit the following weekend.

He contacted me the first day or two after he left…then…radio silence.  Hmmmmm.  I gave him space.  I did not change my flight.  I waited.  And frequently felt nauseous.  (God I hate the word nauseous.)

Finally, the night before I was going to fly, I called him.  He answered the phone and said:  "So are you ready for your trip?"  Huh?  Ok.  Was I over-reacting?  I've over-reacted before.  Countless times.  Hmmmmm.  (I love that when I'm not over-reacting, I jump to this thought.  I should have burned that E-Ticket and fled to Guam, but…)  So I flew out the next morning to see him.  And overall, I had a very romantic weekend with him.  …There was the story about how an ex-girlfriend took out a restraining order on him.  That was strange. And I did have a moment of utter calm and asked him if he felt like all of his ex-girlfriends had fucked him over.  He really thought about the question and then answered, "No."  (I think he was lying.)  In retrospect, I now believe that he was only able to be a certain person, the person he was being for me, for a finite amount of time.  He was a good actor.  (I think he was accepted to one of those very prestigious acting schools.)  And yes, if you must know, he asked me to marry him again during the second weekend.  He even had suggestions as to what the neckline of my wedding dress should look like...

On the last day of my visit, we had a cozy lunch, a boozy dinner and then went to hear jazz music until 4AM.  Yes, I might have mixed red wine and vodka diet cokes (evil, evil, evil).  At the jazz club we might have met people and told them the story of how we reconnected on Facebook.  All smiles.  It was magic, right?  But it was just a load of play-acting, though I didn't know it yet.  And…Yep.  I was super the next morning when it came time to fly.  I might have had egg nog thinking it would go down easy on a hang over.  FYI, NOT.  And I believe what happened next should have summed up the whole "relationship."  As John was hugging me good-bye, I suddenly realized that I was going to vomit.  Right outside the airport doors.  Where everyone was dropping off visitors.  I just said:  "One second," and turned around and vomited into a trash can.  I don't know how it was so close to me, but I believe God had a hand in it.  John came up behind me as I was puking, touched my back and said, "Are you ok?"  I waved him off (gracefully or forcefully, I can't quite remember)…as I continued to yak.  When I was finished, I wiped my mouth with my hot pink, cashmere pashmina and apologized profusely.  That was our good-bye.  The last time I saw him.  It seems so fitting now.

I flew home thinking he was the one even while I had to lie to the flight attendants and say I had food poisoning so I could use the lavatory before take-off.  They MUST have thought I made the most amazing recovery halfway home.  Not.

He started texting less and less right after I got home.  One text said:  "I miss talking to you."  I texted back, "Then why don't you call me?"  He was a victim, constantly in pain and I just accepted it.  Until I just couldn't anymore.  Self-respect and pain combined are a couple of harsh, but good mistresses.  They did the trick!!!  I ended it…well maybe he ended it, but I pushed the issue.  I remember we talked just a couple days before my dad came to visit.  I was outside when I got the call and he started the conversation acting like everything was normal, but I broached the subject.  He talked about his team of therapists.  I asked what they said.  He said, "I guess I'm just not ready to be in a relationship."

I was devastated.  But got over it.  It was wrong twenty years ago and it was wrong now.  Enough said.  But he wanted to stay in touch.  Remain Friends on Facebook.  I remember the day I finally UNFRIENDED him after one too may bizarre comments appeared on my page - he sent me an email that said:  "What did I ever do to you?  Now we can't even be Friends?"  And then a full year later he wrote on the weekend he'd come out to visit me saying, "I can't help but think of you this time of year."  Ok.  Enough.  Gag.  Could someone show the card that says…THE END and put the closing credit music on?  Oh wait, I guess I did!