And Who's To Blame
Part V
As some of you may have read from the Guestbook. I stated that I had a planned sit down chat with J scheduled for yesterday afternoon (Tues, Mar 9). Well, it didn�t exactly happen that way. Let me illustrate for you, as I am so fond of doing, how this episodic life-exert has unfolded.
Many of you may also know (due to my guestbook fondness, or fondleness (he, he, he!)) that I broke my arm in a relentless arm wrestling match at about 2am Feb 22. I will begin my tale here. I spent a week resting at my parent�s house with my arm in a sling and splint (jagged bones freely moving and clacking against one another) in order to hash out the insurance situation and what-not. The whole while I was thinking about when A asked me if I liked J, what a jerk I had been to the new boyfriend, C, among other things. That�s right, I said boyfriend. Things are in full swing between the two of them. But, I have a new and wonderful perspective on life. I have therefore chosen to grant him with a single capital letter. This is the method I use of gracing individuals with great respect, you see. The next time I see him, I look forward to a hearty handshake and formal, gentlemen-like introductions accompanied by small and meaningful intro-chit-chat. Smiles all around, of course. Oh, I do indeed intend this, sincerely. Nearly having an arm ripped off does this to people.
I�ll continue. At my pre-operative appointment on Thur, Feb 26 I was asked a veritable plethora (El Guapo says: Do you know what a plethora is?) of questions including: �Do you have a living will?�
�Why? What are you going to do to me? Get that garden hose away from my penis!!� Sorry, post-traumatic stress.
So, in consideration of the surgery and thinking about the Will question, I sat down the night before to jot a few ideas down. Turns out, all I was thinking about was how I wanted to confess to J. To make a long story less long, I ended up doing the second most chicken shit thing I could think of and I slipped a note under her door before leaving the house on the morning of my surgery. I don�t have the note, but it basically said that I lied to her that night and I had been attracted to her. I went on some strange out-pouring tirade about having been a smoker, too. It was a simple, poorly edited piece, much like this one I am preparing for you now. It also included a mentioning of wanting to be friends.
Yesterday, J didn�t come home, due to her being in the ER in KC (turns out this is one of the most difficult weeks of her life. Who knew?). Apparently, it was not too serious. I am not going to share the medical problem here for her privacy.
I got impatient and turned to the roommates to gather their reaction to the letter. I knew they had also read it. I did enjoy the dear-in-headlights look I got back from them when I asked so blatantly, though. I�m glad I talked to them, too, because they provided some very valuable insight about how non-confrontational J was (I�m a guy. I don�t pick up on these things very well) and A even questioned my motives for the letter. I was defensive, at first, but I now understand that she was just defending her best friend. Other than that, the girls just seemed very willing to share their opinions. I gathered that they were afraid I would shove J back in a hole because they saw her as very shy and very likely to skirt the issue. JB wanted to know how long I felt this way and how strong my feelings had become. I told her I was attracted to J from day one and to imagine the emotional potential over the seven-month period. I did not want to elaborate on my feelings because of this being so new to them. J came back this afternoon.
We�ve had just a little chit-chat since she�s been home. Earlier, I went upstairs to update her on some of the apartment issues we have been sharing with our land-owners (landlords). I spoke to her through her closed door. As I was speaking, JB came out of her bedroom. I also mentioned to J that I didn�t plan on bringing up anything else related to the letter. JB was coaching me on exactly how little to say and, in fact, gave me the old �neck chop� gesture to let me know when I was finished. Guess that�s the ball game, folks.
Well, it�s not so bad, really. Things are out on the table now if anyone wants to talk about them and I feel one hundred times better about the whole thing. Although, I do feel like I have been selfish in some way, but maybe that is A�s influence. I am just glad to have the wonderful memories, really. Maybe that sounds pathetic, but I know me and I know I�ll end up with a real girlfriend soon. (Oh, how I wish I had a Fairy God-mother!) Anyway, cheers!!
-Paddy