Thursday, April 26, 2012

BlueShame of the Week

This is a story about two people who never grew up and one clueless sap who got caught in the midst of this reprehensible maelstrom. This woman is hands down the BlueShame of the week - maybe even the entire month. Am I judging? Absolutely. I hope this story reminds you all how best to treat one another.

Rewind nine years to me as a fresh-faced and vaguely promiscuous 23-year-old working at a dream job in Boston that was perfect for me. Enter Tony, an account guy at my work 14 years my senior and so incredibly wonderfully grumpy and brusque that what could I do but fall head over heels in love with the guy? He had just left a ten-year marriage and wasn't ready to give me a chance to be his girlfriend, but he was ready to bone me, which he did very enthusiastically a few times but never really pursued it beyond getting off. This sorta broke my heart. but I left the dream job and didn't have to look at him anymore, so the whole out-of-sight-out-of-mind thing kicked in and I was ready for the next one if I couldn't have the one that had my heart.

In walks Eli, a super sweet and available guy. Ten years my senior and ready to settle down. He is an insanely smart tech guy and just thinks the sun rises and sets in me. Knowing that the one I really want doesn't want me, I dive into a relationship with Eli. We move in together almost immediately. Eli is amazing and open, and tells me he loves me and I fall in love with him. He goes on a trip around the world for a year, and I go with him. He proposes, I accept. Then I run into Tony and sleep with him. Repeatedly. And it's amazing. Whoops. I know, I know. I'm awful and I know it, but I don't want to hurt Eli, so I just do the right thing and buy a house with him and marry him without ever breathing a word. That's okay, right? No? Whoops again.



So I'm married to this great guy and live in an amazing house and we're happy and since Eli is ten years older than me, he is ready to have kids. So we throw out the birth control and try to spawn. Now don't get me wrong, sex with Eli is fine. Him on top, only, but very skilled with hands and tongue before he climbs on. I can't help but compare this to Tony. Tony was more than fine. He was some sort of sex god (at least for me) and will forever be the one I compare everyone else to. Including my husband. That I'm trying to have a baby with. All this sex with my husband just makes me think of Tony more and I email him. We meet. We have le amazing sex. Repeatedly. Like really emotionally-connecting lovemaking and finally, Tony is on the same plane as me and we start wondering out loud how to move forward together (when we aren't screwing around like horny teenagers). Then it happens. The pregnancy test comes back positive. Super whoops. I don't tell Tony or Eli and when I miscarry, I feel like it's a divine omen for me to Behave with a capital B. So I stop calling Tony. I erase all his information out of my life and devote myself to my sweet and available (and utterly oblivious) husband. Eventually Tony stops calling and I finally get pregnant by the wonderful Eli and I for sure know that it's actually his baby and not Tony's. Whew. We have a baby boy and I try to stop thinking about the what-if.

The other shoe drops. Me, all new motherly glowing and still lumpy, pushing my four-week-old baby around the grocery store with my sweet husband. Hi Tony. Fancy running into you here. Tony sees my baby and husband and the look on his face KILLS me. Well it kills me until he turns to this pretty lady with the protruding stomach and introduces her to me. AS HIS WIFE. HIS PREGNANT WIFE. WE WERE HOOKING UP A MERE YEAR BEFORE AND HE WAS SINGLE AND HOW IS HE MARRIED TO A LADY SIX-PLUS MONTHS PREGNANT?!! He is burning holes into me with this look and I'm sure it's the same look on my face. I feel a bit faint and say I need to go. I send the husband off with the stroller to get some fruit or something and I hide by the car, sobbing like a baby. I eventually scrape myself together and push those feelings for Tony way down in my heart and try to accept that the guy I've been in love with for four years is married and gone. I pick myself and my heart up and we move across the country to San Francisco for Eli's dream job. I settle down?

Eventually, I friend Tony on the evil Facebook because I am still friends with everyone we worked with. I read his posts but try to just keep it cool and as distant as possible. Even when he posts pictures of his gorgeous baby girl with the name that I once told him was my favorite. Two years later one of the people Tony and I work with dies and I reach out to him via email, only to find out that his marriage to the grocery store lady is already over and he is single again. I push my feelings down yet again and stop emailing him. Meanwhile, my marriage is fine. Lovely little family with a great job and all seems perfect but my husband won't touch me and hasn't initiated sex since before our son was born. He is busy, I am busy, we sleep in the same bed, he gives me a peck on the cheek when he gets out of the car. It's fine. But it's not.

I post a picture on Facebook of a new hairstyle and Tony likes it. I post about a new promotion, Tony messages me. Uh oh. We message back and forth for a couple of days and then I send him a drunken message with my # attached and tell him to text me. He sends me a message back and tells me how much he wants to be drunk with me. Then the texting starts. It was witty and semi-flirtatious at first and then we dove into our history and rehashed all of that. No more questions. He was in love with me from the first time he saw me. He was just out of a painful divorce and didn't know what to do so he did nothing and he has been in love with me all along. My long-squashed feelings crash out of me in rambling text messages about how mad I am at him for letting me go. We grow intensely close over text and phone and now we have plans to be together when I am back east over the summer. I love him. I know I do. I am in love with Tony, and he is in love with me. He tells me he wants me to be his partner. He gets frustrated at the distance and my husband. My husband that I don't want to destroy. I feel like I am being eaten alive by this what-if serpent that has transformed into the what-now monster.

I told him that we will be together over the summer for a couple of weeks and see if this works. To see if we're good together. He wants me to come stay with him and meet his daughter that he says he wishes he'd had with me and be his girlfriend, and I want to punch him in the face for taking nine goddamn years to get on the same page as me. I tell him that we will cross these difficult and painful bridges when we come to them, and that for now we just need to get to know each other again. I respect Eli too much to ruin his life, but I can't be his roommate forever. I don't want to take my son away from his dad. I think if you look up Between A Rock And A Hard Place in the universal encyclopedia, this novella will be there.

Is this too little too late?

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