Pride and Consequence
I left my crap-trap hometown in 1999 and arrived at the Oakland airport with a three-year old, two suitcases and my keyboard. I was high on youth, freaked out and not sure how it would all work. It didn't matter though, because I was there. A high-school drop out going to Berkeley. Super sweet. Transfering out of hometown community college into possibility. I had set out to make it happen, planted things in my life that would lead to getting exactly where I was. And it worked. Everyone was skeptical, but I had done it.
The apartment I was going to rent from University-housing wasn't ready for move-in by the time fall classes began. Fortunately, my uncle put me and my daughter up in his studio in a nearby town. The boy who would later become Ex-Husband remained in Hometown, but we maintained a long-distance committment for the short 6 weeks until we would move into a Berkeley apartment together. During this six weeks, I made a friend - a neighbor. We shared a wall and I heard music coming from his apartment within the first few days. I made out Tori Amos, Sublime and what I thought was Nine Inch Nails. And live guitar. I actually put my ear up to the wall on many occasions so that I could hear the guitar better. That was probably over the line.
The first time I actually saw him I was struck by his intensity. Had the look of someone who thinks about things. Walking towards his front door, Radiohead's 'Talk Show Host' echoed in my mind. Slow motion. He noticed me and I sensed a sudden, slight change. He had adapted to my pressence. Maybe everyone does that, but I'm vain and remember it flattered me. He smiled shyly and dissapeared behind his door.
We made friends soon after. He had a couple margaritas in him, giving him the courage to offer me one. I accepted and proceeded to get to know my neighbor. Not only was he super-nice, he was an artist and a poet and I love these types of people. For the first time since I had met the boy I was engaged to, I felt attraction to another person. When I sensed he was trying to make a move, I said goodnight and almost fell over myself trying to run back into my apartment. The next day I explained that I was engaged, and nothing inappropriate ever happened. To this day I still have to ask myself how it was that I went through the whole night without mentioning I was engaged, and then convinced myself the next day that it had simply never come up. Should have been the first clue that Ex-Husband might have been the wrong person for me.
Anyhow, we maintained our friendship for almost 4 years, when one evening I got a phone call from him. He was clearly intoxicated, emotional... He talked about his feelings on my then-husband and confessed he felt more than friendship towards me. I was dumbfounded as I had spent the past year helping him through a break-up with a girl he really, really liked. I told him it could never be but assured him we would maintain some form of friendship. Two days later I sent an email telling him I couldn't speak with him anymore, that it was too awkward and then-husband was pretty pissed off. Truth was, Ex-Husband and I were having problems already, and there was no way I could both keep up the friendship and continue attempts at marital salvage.
Months and months passed. The old friend emailed me, apologizing and expressing hope that we might catch up. I replied only to tell him I couldn't, although it was not what I wanted. A few weeks later, Ex-Husband and I split. I wanted to mail the old friend right then, but was embarassed. Of all the high-minded reasons I gave for not continuing the friendship, none matched the weight of the reality: I had always wanted to, but worried about then-husband's response. But it seemed silly and weak and a bit of a cop-out... I really missed this friendship and wanted it back. I knew he had a girlfriend and it wouldn't be a romantic thing... the only reason I hadn't contacted him was because I didn't want him to know I had tossed the friendship as part of my last ditch efforts at fixing my marriage.
It took nearly a year to get the courage to contact the old friend. I sent him an email, letting him know I was moving soon and hoped he was well. He mailed back and we decided to hang out.
So much had changed. He now has a really great girlfriend, beautiful son and fatter job. I couldn't believe I had missed it all, especially his son. I was pretty much his only friend with a kid, and it would have been nice to have been able to be there for him through all the emotions having a child inevitable brings. But I missed it all, because I was too proud. Lame. Super-Lame.
The apartment I was going to rent from University-housing wasn't ready for move-in by the time fall classes began. Fortunately, my uncle put me and my daughter up in his studio in a nearby town. The boy who would later become Ex-Husband remained in Hometown, but we maintained a long-distance committment for the short 6 weeks until we would move into a Berkeley apartment together. During this six weeks, I made a friend - a neighbor. We shared a wall and I heard music coming from his apartment within the first few days. I made out Tori Amos, Sublime and what I thought was Nine Inch Nails. And live guitar. I actually put my ear up to the wall on many occasions so that I could hear the guitar better. That was probably over the line.
The first time I actually saw him I was struck by his intensity. Had the look of someone who thinks about things. Walking towards his front door, Radiohead's 'Talk Show Host' echoed in my mind. Slow motion. He noticed me and I sensed a sudden, slight change. He had adapted to my pressence. Maybe everyone does that, but I'm vain and remember it flattered me. He smiled shyly and dissapeared behind his door.
We made friends soon after. He had a couple margaritas in him, giving him the courage to offer me one. I accepted and proceeded to get to know my neighbor. Not only was he super-nice, he was an artist and a poet and I love these types of people. For the first time since I had met the boy I was engaged to, I felt attraction to another person. When I sensed he was trying to make a move, I said goodnight and almost fell over myself trying to run back into my apartment. The next day I explained that I was engaged, and nothing inappropriate ever happened. To this day I still have to ask myself how it was that I went through the whole night without mentioning I was engaged, and then convinced myself the next day that it had simply never come up. Should have been the first clue that Ex-Husband might have been the wrong person for me.
Anyhow, we maintained our friendship for almost 4 years, when one evening I got a phone call from him. He was clearly intoxicated, emotional... He talked about his feelings on my then-husband and confessed he felt more than friendship towards me. I was dumbfounded as I had spent the past year helping him through a break-up with a girl he really, really liked. I told him it could never be but assured him we would maintain some form of friendship. Two days later I sent an email telling him I couldn't speak with him anymore, that it was too awkward and then-husband was pretty pissed off. Truth was, Ex-Husband and I were having problems already, and there was no way I could both keep up the friendship and continue attempts at marital salvage.
Months and months passed. The old friend emailed me, apologizing and expressing hope that we might catch up. I replied only to tell him I couldn't, although it was not what I wanted. A few weeks later, Ex-Husband and I split. I wanted to mail the old friend right then, but was embarassed. Of all the high-minded reasons I gave for not continuing the friendship, none matched the weight of the reality: I had always wanted to, but worried about then-husband's response. But it seemed silly and weak and a bit of a cop-out... I really missed this friendship and wanted it back. I knew he had a girlfriend and it wouldn't be a romantic thing... the only reason I hadn't contacted him was because I didn't want him to know I had tossed the friendship as part of my last ditch efforts at fixing my marriage.
It took nearly a year to get the courage to contact the old friend. I sent him an email, letting him know I was moving soon and hoped he was well. He mailed back and we decided to hang out.
So much had changed. He now has a really great girlfriend, beautiful son and fatter job. I couldn't believe I had missed it all, especially his son. I was pretty much his only friend with a kid, and it would have been nice to have been able to be there for him through all the emotions having a child inevitable brings. But I missed it all, because I was too proud. Lame. Super-Lame.
posted by Lex Fori at
12:26 PM
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