BEFORE IT ALL FELL APART
It was the perfect Saturday morning. I woke up hungover and hungry for Dunkin Donuts (naturally). I called up Josh and I headed up to his apartment. I was a mess as usual, but being hungover just makes me more sassy and loving of all things in the world. After our Dunkin run, I slowly ate my donut and sipped iced coffee like a diva, all while wearing sunglasses in his living room, acting like I was Holly Golightly in Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
He looked at me in amazement at how ridiculous and awful I am. But he loved it.
Once I was finished, we moved to his room and lied in bed. It was so peaceful. Things are a lot quieter in Harlem than in the Upper East Side. Still feeling the hangover, I sprawled out across the bed and gracefully passed out in Josh’s arms.
When I came to, Josh was having one of his gnarly migraine episodes. We planned on going out later and it didn’t look like that was going to happen. He drew the blinds to keep out the intensity of the light and curled up in bed. I felt so bad leaving him. I didn’t want to do it, but he said it was for the best. He said he doesn’t like people around when this sort of thing happens. I could tell by his quivering that he was not OK, and that he really did need to be alone.
“You should leave at 7,” he said. “I’m really good at timing these things.”
So at 7, I left Josh helpless and in pain in the dark and showed my way out the front door.
I got a text as I was leaving. “Thank u for being great :)”
This was our last weekend together. It was terrible that it had to be cut short, but at least we still had Sunday, right? Wrong. He didn’t want to hang out then either. Maybe I was being too needy and clingy. Maybe I was being too annoying. I got that vibe. I felt like I was bothering him to hang out even though in my mind I thought he wanted the same thing. But the migraines. I can’t get upset when it’s not in his control.
I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach.
I didn’t really talk to Josh at all on Sunday and it was becoming clear that I was way more invested in our fling than he was. I got dressed for interning and headed out the door. Josh and I interned at the same place together so I figured I would get to have lunch with him at least to feel him out. When I hopped on the subway train, I noticed a familiar face in a place where it didn’t belong.
There was Josh standing on the platform at my subway station on the complete opposite side of the city. What was he doing here? Why would he be here when doesn’t get out here ever? The first time he was ever on the Upper East Side was to stay at my place. This was getting weird. I shouted his name but he didn’t hear me and he didn’t get on my train. If we are going to the same place, wouldn’t we be getting on the same train? Did he see me and avoid me? Suddenly, I noticed he was wearing a backpack. I bring my backpack to work but Josh doesn’t. The only time he ever brought a backpack to work was the day after he stayed the night at my apartment.
It hit me.
Josh spent the night at another guy’s house.
It made sense. You see, his ex boyfriend was in New York that weekend, and my insane jealous mind put it all together. Why did he kick me out of his apartment at exactly 7 o’ clock? Why did he not care to hang out last night? “He was probably seeing him,” I thought.
Why was I acting like a crazy ho? To say I was being extra and unnecessary would be an understatement.
I didn’t quite know what to do with myself.
He showed up to work as I was walking toward the break room and…omg…this is when psycho Robert from 2010 came back from the dead to avenge his new soul.
As I walked by, he waved, said “Good Morning” and I…just…kept on walking…
I didn’t look at him. I didn’t acknowledge him by any means. I ignored him.
I ignored him at work for hours because I didn’t know what to say. I just couldn’t bring myself to face him with my intuition telling me something was up. Eventually I caved in and asked him to speak with me at my desk.
We talked. Details aren’t necessary to share with you, my dear readers. In fact, the details only made me doubt him more. Apparently he had a friend on that side of town, a girl friend who helped him out with something. It made sense, yes. But I still felt something was wrong, and I knew I wasn’t getting the whole story. Was I acting crazy? My boss, Sasha said I should follow my gut. Giselle told me I’m better than this and should let it go. Fellow intern Stella told me I was being dramatic, and sassy gay intern Lance from Princeton said, “Who cares about him, he’s a big ugly tree.” Thanks Lance for the help.
But what was a girl to do? I did what any dramatic writer would do.
I wrote a blog post about it.
SORRY, NOT SORRY
This post was mean. Pretty damn rude. I titled it “Whirlwind.” I quoted Lance’s “tree” remark and told a tale of feeling betrayed by a male user.
It was over the top.
I was nervous to post it. But I did it anyways.
The worst thing about all of this was that I thought with my emotions, not my brain. I wrote with passion but without logic or clear headed thinking. It was messy and awful. As I watched the link get likes on Facebook and the page visits grow higher and higher, I suddenly began missing him. I missed him so much. I missed talking to him and sneaking away to the break room for coffee. I missed walking past his desk and making weird faces over the cubicle. I missed him making fun of me at lunch for eating like a caveman. I missed making him laugh. But it was all done now. I made the final push and all I could do now was sit with the drastic decision I had made.
The last thing Josh said to me was, “You’re juvenile.” He was right, but at the same time I felt our whole relationship was just that. Juvenile. So I told him that and we never spoke again. I could have let it go. I could have just let it rest and cherish the time we did have together, rather than tarnishing it.
Before he called me juvenile, I asked him why he had been distant.
He said, “I didn’t expect your feelings for me to manifest the way that they did.”
At that moment, it was clear. I wasn’t able to let Josh go because for me it was all or nothing. Josh just wanted some fun. He wanted a fling. I wanted that too at first, but for me it became something else entirely. Joshua was the first person ever, to make me believe in romance. He was in a long term relationship before meeting me, so he understood it. I didn’t. It’s like trying chocolate for the first time. You’ll think it’s amazing and heavenly, and just all around perfect, but then someone else will come along and say, “Well haven’t you had chocolate before?”
Summer flings will do this to the weak at heart.
It will change you and twirl you into oblivion. It will dance you around in the street at midnight and it will hold you until the morning.
The only thing a Summer Fling will not do is last.