Its raining here in LA. Non-stop. Houses in the Hollywood Hills are in danger of slipping down the mountainside because foundations are washing away. Its amazing to me that even though this happens season after season, people still choose to live on the hill. But then, Cool Girl does the same shit over and over until she learns her lesson, so who am I to judge?
About a month ago, before Thanksgiving, Cool Girl played Savior. Who needs the birth of Christ when you have her around? The Little One called. His apartment had flooded badly from a burst pipe. He had nowhere to go. So I cancelled my plans and headed over to his place to help pack up all his belongings while huge, loud drying fans whirred inside his place. Packing while trying to keep things off the wet wall-to-wall carpeting was no easy task. After a good three hours, we were tired and hungry as we headed to my apartment to pretty much move him into my room. He kept thanking me. Over and over. Said he wanted to take me out to dinner the next night before he flew home for the holiday the next day. Then, he stopped himself and said, "Oh, I have plans with a friend tomorrow night so maybe I can take you out for lunch..." The way he said 'plans', you know, with that pause and 'friend'- well, the stutter- he basically told me everything I needed to know. I pretty much stopped talking altogether and slept on my roommate's futon that night.
The next day, I was just as quiet and The Little One noticed . We headed to my favorite place for brunch and he must've finally got sick of holding up the conversation and he asked me what was wrong. I asked him if he was really sure he wanted to know. Truth was, I wasn't sure I wanted him to know. He pressed with a look of concern in his eye and I released a big sigh. I decided to put a muzzle on Cool Girl and come out with the truth.
The truth was that I was hurt that I came second to some girl he'd just met, some girl he didn't feel close enough to to ask if he could stay at HER place while his apartment was being fixed. I had dropped everything to help him and yet he couldn't change his plans to show his appreciation that he allegedly felt. And was he planning on hitting it with this girl and coming back to my place to sleep in MY bed?! For crying out loud. Now, to be clear, my head realized I had no right to ask annnything from him; we were just friends, nothing more. But my heart didn't want to hear about some fucking date he didn't want to break. So I ended up telling him all of this and asked him for some sensitivity, that's all. He said, "If you want me to flake on the date, I'll blow her off. I will." I looked at him and said, "I wanted YOU to want to do that. I know you don't want to, Little One." He grimmaced and said, "It just gets so lonely out here, you know?" Oh, how I did know. Instead of saying that out loud, I kept it in and tears welled up, the truth ringing out in my head. He reached across the table and grabbed my hand. "Please tell me what you're thinking." I took a whoooole bunch of deep breaths and finally looked him in the eye. "I'm afraid... because I think I would do anything for you... even if it was to my own detriment." And my tears flowed. He was quiet. I made a joke about not being sure exactly when that happened. He smiled widely. "I think it was when I drove your keys down from CT after you locked yourself out in NY." "I think it might have been before then," I answered quietly. It felt freeing to be so honest but there was no way to decide our fates at the Larchmont Bungalow. So without settling anything, we left.
The afternoon was lighter until he got ready to go out. "I'm sleeping in my bed tonight," I inform him. "Okay. Do you want me to join you?" Cool Girl answers, "Yes."
I wish I had a recording of our conversation that night. Sleep was impossible because of the quiet tension so after playfully fighting over blankets ( I AM a stealer- I admit it!), we gave in and just talked face-to-face in the dark. All night. He admitted that no other girl that he was with ever had the depth that our thing had. More like discovered that rather than admitted; like it just occurred to him. I found out the truth about the "friend" and asked if she knew about me. She did. "Does she know where you're sleeping?" "Ah, no." "Well, if there's nothing going on here, shouldn't she know?" "I don't think I should tell her." "Because there's something going on?" "Maybe." Let me tell you something about screwing around with young people: The 'Maybes' are the absolute worst part. Its like they have no friggin' point of view on ANYTHING for fear that a decisive answer will come back to haunt them. And for me, it is my biggest pet peeve. I decide to throw the gauntlet down: "SO a 'maybe' is actually a 'no' then, isn't it? Because if its not a 'yes', then anything else is a 'no'." He looks at me completely defeated. I turn into a school marm and lecture, "You don't get to have your cake and eat it too." Except, kids, you and I both know that's exactly what I'm letting him do. I can shove all the pillows between us and it makes no difference. Cool Girl is a master.
There defiinitely is more to this story; it may have to be a two-parter. He flew out the next day and let me use his car for the 9 days he was gone and I picked him up from the airport when he returned. His apartment was not to be fixed in a few daaays like he was originally told, but a few weeeks.
He ended up back in my bed.
How do you bail yourself out of a sinking boat you've drilled your own hole in?
To be continued...
