I'd been dating Nick for nearly a year. We made plans to visit the artsy city to the west - it's a couple of hours' drive, so we planned to spend most of a Saturday out there. As always, we needed to be back before it had gotten too late, though, because he had a commitment every night, without fail.
It's a very long, literally sad, stupid story. The short version is that he couldn't/wouldn't deal with the "commitment" implied by a day's excursion with me, so he bailed out. He started a conversation with his dad (which was pretty rare) and "ended up" talking for a couple of hours, after which he took a nap. Meanwhile, I was ready at the appointed time, waiting....
I finally left, leaving my phone behind at my apartment (to which he had a key) and just drove. For probably 2 hours. When I came back, he hadn't been there, and hadn't called.
I don't remember how it all worked out. I'm sure I called him (probably several times). He eventually came over. We had a long, quiet, tense conversation, during which I cried a river of tears and he sat, stone-faced, not looking at me. When we were through talking, he borrowed my phone (not yet owning one of his own, not surprisingly) and left the room. After he made a brief call, he returned. "Let's go."
He'd called the person to whom he feels primarily responsible in terms of that nightly commitment, explained the situation, and asked for advice - which was, "For the love of God, GO." I was still enormously hurt, but I could also see what a sacrifice he'd made, and was making, so I didn't insist on going without what I wanted in order to be "right." We went.
The weird thing? We had a really good time. Wandered a bookstore, had a nice dinner, took a bunch of photos. Held hands while we walked on the sidewalks of a town that was not our own. And got a brief respite from the overwhelming melodrama that was our relationship and our lives. It was definitely a memorable night.
It's a very long, literally sad, stupid story. The short version is that he couldn't/wouldn't deal with the "commitment" implied by a day's excursion with me, so he bailed out. He started a conversation with his dad (which was pretty rare) and "ended up" talking for a couple of hours, after which he took a nap. Meanwhile, I was ready at the appointed time, waiting....
I finally left, leaving my phone behind at my apartment (to which he had a key) and just drove. For probably 2 hours. When I came back, he hadn't been there, and hadn't called.
I don't remember how it all worked out. I'm sure I called him (probably several times). He eventually came over. We had a long, quiet, tense conversation, during which I cried a river of tears and he sat, stone-faced, not looking at me. When we were through talking, he borrowed my phone (not yet owning one of his own, not surprisingly) and left the room. After he made a brief call, he returned. "Let's go."
He'd called the person to whom he feels primarily responsible in terms of that nightly commitment, explained the situation, and asked for advice - which was, "For the love of God, GO." I was still enormously hurt, but I could also see what a sacrifice he'd made, and was making, so I didn't insist on going without what I wanted in order to be "right." We went.
The weird thing? We had a really good time. Wandered a bookstore, had a nice dinner, took a bunch of photos. Held hands while we walked on the sidewalks of a town that was not our own. And got a brief respite from the overwhelming melodrama that was our relationship and our lives. It was definitely a memorable night.
[title quotation by Aristotle]
What does it mean that I remember this day vividly, and I wasn't even there?
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