Two months ago, I met someone.
It was random and completely unexpected, and in my former mother-in-law's kitchen, which is amusing for a several reasons. I hadn't slept well, was in my Topaz uniform of jeans, a sweatshirt, and FUggs, and was cleaning up unhappy dog shit because Mike hasn't learned in 11 years that feeding Riley nonstop table scraps upsets her stomach. As one of my favorite people on earth noted, I met this guy at far from my best... and he was still so nervously interested that he introduced himself twice.
This guy- we'll call him Noodle Head, which doesn't bode well for this story- was not someone I was interested in. Not my cup of noodles. However, the universe speaks sometimes, and sometimes I listen. See, the very night before, I had a sudden, raging urge to smoke a cigarette. It had been many, long months since I'd had such an urge, and most of the time I can procrastinate it away, but this time I was climbing the walls. "Well duh!" you say. "You were at Topaz!" Yes, I had an awful moment at dinner when I found myself around this familiar table with Mike, Elaine, Ant, and Ant's girlfriend without the central person that brought us all together, and I was sad for that and idea that nobody in that room was thrilled with him at that point, but that was a very brief moment, and the rest of the evening was really nice and warm and cozy with yummy food and good conversation. When the urge to smoke hit me, it was so powerful that I texted a friend that I thought might smoke occasionally and had I not been an hour and a half away, I would have went to find him. Why not go to the store? Well, because then I'd smoke the pack and maybe buy another.
That night I stayed in the bedroom with Elaine while Mike slept in his recliner in the living room- a preference he swore by. During the night, Elaine got up to pee and stepped in Riley's runny poo in the bathroom. I got up to take Riley out. She wandered away and scared the hell out of me, because she was made fearless by her need to poop, she is increasingly deaf, and there had been lots of bear sightings the night before. Be woken up at 2am and told your dog has shit all over the place, take her tasty bunny rabbit looking ass outside, then watch her trot straight into the trees where the bears were, oblivious to your calls. That'll get your heart pumping. There was another potty trip that night, and I woke up the next morning to the sounds of a Topaz regular talking shit about my untrained dog.
I put on my sweatshirt and jeans, pulled my hair up, pushed my sleeves up, and went out into the kitchen to go clean up some shit. I startled the poor regular, who had no idea I was in the next room. There was another guy in a chair in the kitchen, who hopped up to meet me. I had no idea anyone else was there. Enter Noodle Head.
The regular felt so bad about talking shit, he apologized in his own special way and spent the rest of the day being really nice to me. Another regular invited me out on the boat, another regular joined us, but Mike, Elaine, Ant, and Kirsten declined, so I spent the next few hours on the loveliest boat ride- drinking beer, talking with a friend I don't get to see much, talking with a couple regulars I don't know well, and when we stopped at the shore, Noodle Head got out, walked WAY out of the way, and lit a cigarette.
Well.
We talked for a long time there, and I learned several things that surprised me. I'm going to not lay out all his personal details, but I was impressed. We talked more and I found myself struck. Who WAS this guy? As the boat rounded the lake, the beer was exceeding its holding tank, and I was wearing jeans, so they dropped me off at Mike's dock, and motored slowly off across the lake again. I went inside for my Topaz movie nap.
In keeping with my unhealthy cravings, I had also been yearning for a chicken fried steak for WEEKS, so when the regulars cajoled me to join them at the Lodge for dinner, I finally caved when they said they'd eaten that very dish the night before and it was amazing. I went, we talked, we laughed, and when Noodle Head was able to get a word in, he was increasingly interesting. He was disappointed I was driving Ant and Kirsten home that night, and when he asked for my number, I already had it written down in my pocket.
Then we talked for a month. We talked regularly, almost nightly, and had nice getting to know each other conversations. We tried making plans, but we were both very busy, and his schedule was not conducive to much more than working and sleeping. At one point, he said one of my very favorite things ever said about me, which was, "You play a lot of sports." Why, yes! Yes, I do.
When I tell you that I am not going to lay out all his business, just know that it's no shit. I did get unrequested confirmation of this from the regulars, but a lot of that was just evident. Being that he's a Noodle Head, I get how it sounds, but I promise you, this guy was legitimately a good guy with his priorities so straight, he had tunnel vision.
So we eventually got our shit together, went out on a date, and had a really nice time. I'd say that we were surprisingly aligned. It was a good night, and I was not the only one who thought so. We spoke a couple days later, when he let me know that the world had come crashing down. He didn't put it like this, and wouldn't, but that shitstorm came down because we went on that date. And no, he wasn't doing anything wrong.
That was a month ago. I have been very sad for a month, and am having a lot of trouble letting it go. I hate that we had this great, awkward meeting, and it's a story we don't get to tell anyone. I hate that I met this guy without a website and had to judge him based on who he was rather than what his pictures conveyed, and right now my only recourse is a website. I hate that it worked- the surprise, not looking for anything- and I can't get myself back to an unsuspecting state. I hate that I was not wrong about him, but no one else will ever know that. I hate that the simple things I want are apparently such a tall goddamn order. I hate that I had a legitimate connection with someone, but still ended up with the same result.
I keep asking myself why I am still so wrapped up in this. Nothing more interesting going on, sure. And I can certainly list what was wrong- there were all kinds of things that would never have worked. But while I can feel the shrugs and I'm trying so hard not to feel bad about feeling bad, I'm still getting messages. Try not to roll your eyes.
On Tuesday, I came home to find a crew cutting all the branches off a tree along my street. I was immediately upset, as this did not seem to be a sick or dead tree. I saw several more trees marked with pink spray paint, and called the office. I eventually got some answers, and learned that all the pink marked trees were coming down- some were dead, some were aesthetically displeasing.
Even my tree is being trimmed- my solace, the tree that filters the light and made my place feel like home as soon as I walked in the door. The branches have to be four feet away from the building, which- if you've seen my tree- will be a lot of trimming. Thank god I'm not going to lose it altogether.
October has been a rough month. I feel pretty isolated at work- I went from managing one of the busiest corners of the hospital, surrounded by friends and constant, direct opportunities to help people to a distant corner and admin projects to an even more isolated corner and even bigger admin projects. I feel like I am no good at my job, probably because it doesn't resemble anything close to the job it started out as. It is so fun when I do get to do my main job- it feels like fun. I'm trying to be optimistic- have been trying for a year now, and most days I succeed.
Last week I had one of the lowest days I've had in a very long time. I tried to avoid anger, but I just sank into this powerless pit of sadness. October started out so warm and full, and was ending so cold- the worst kind- the wet, windy cold with not just leaves coming down, but whole, loved trees, some that bloomed with pink flowers. The metaphor was miserable, and then I woke up in the middle of the night- wide awake, perused Facebook for distraction, and saw a post from a local news channel that said, "We'll finish the calendar on a warm note in Reno..."
And it did- just not quite the warmth I wanted. I don't know what the purpose of all that time was- why I had to get my goddamn hopes up. Something tells me that's not the end of Noodle Head. Maybe he's not really a noodle head. Maybe I'm right and maybe I'm just comforting myself. Doesn't really matter, because either way I have to put it down, and I can't seem to do it yet.
But the messages I am hearing are urging me further along my path like little fairies or the smell of really great grilled food, and I want to follow.
"...though the side of my heart has left me again, I hear music up above."
