IT ENDED BAD, BUT I LOVE WHAT WE STARTED;

The last of something is never quite when you expect. 

I resolved in my heart that today was going to be the end. 

Dante told me about a month ago I was going to see him this weekend at the convention. He was one of the first men I saw ambling towards me Friday morning. He was wearing a three piece grey suit and had a soft look in his eye.

“Hey.” we breathed, as he extended his arms and enveloped me in them. 

Before this, we had spoken three weeks ago. I told him that I had serious intentions, and knowing he did not, we were not going to talk about intimate things anymore. 

“You know perfectly well how I feel about you. And knowing that I have serious intentions, and you have given your heart to someone else, you cannot share the things that you are sharing with me. You speak like we are lovers and you have made it clear you think otherwise. So don’t. I can’t take it. My heart… can. Not. Take. It.”

He paused for the longest time and said quietly, “I understand.” 

So I became stubborn to my word. Though thinking about him often, I refused to call.

 I met Beatrice this weekend. Beatrice wants to be friends with me. She is a lovely woman, inside and out. She is petite and plump, with thick black hair. She and I became fast friends,and I felt dread and sadness when she asked me for my number. I gave it to her anyway, and she has text messaged me with eagerness.

I feel like a criminal when I hug her knowing what I have shared with someone beloved of her. 

Once having met her, I knew that I wasn’t going to remain this way. 

I am a jealous woman. I have a heart so sensitive that to let someone in is terribly hard. 

“Tread softly, for you tread upon my dreams.” — Yeats 

I cannot be anyone’s other woman. I cannot be the dirty little secret. It is the role that every man I have wanted has assigned me, or none at all.

I’m not interested in playing second fiddle to anyone. 

In any case, we said an amicable and cheerful goodbye while we were still in Ohio, but I called him when I got home.

“I want to talk to you about what we learned today at the convention.”  They had a play about what it meant to show real love to someone.

“Okay. I will call you when I get back home.”

And he did. And we talked for an hour.

I told him, “She really doesn’t seem that into you.”

“She was irritated that day. We usually are different than that.”

“I say this not as a woman attracted to you, but as your friend. When you long more than they do, it’s dangerous. And you have emotions like I do— emotions like hurricanes. I’m in a different place in my life than you are right now, and she is in a different place in her life than you are right now too.  If she moves on, it will devastate you.” 

He knows it.

I told him, “This is the last time I’m calling you. In fact, this may be our last conversation for a long time.”

“Oh?” he sounded stricken.

“I know how I feel. I know you feel (or rather, don’t feel). I know how Jehovah feels. This isn’t right for either one of us right now, and I don’t want to run the risk of backpedaling.”

“I understand. And I know that this is the best thing for both of us, spiritually.” He paused. “I’m sorry about that, though. I really enjoy knowing you, and hanging out with you, and talking with you and…”

“…and I you.  But I know that if you’re going to be with her, then I need to walk away.”

We both paused.

“I can feel this conversation’s coming to a close.” He sighed, then said, “If this is really the end, I just want to say I really, really hope that you meet your goals. And you work things out in your life. And that you get to go to the places you want to go, and be with the people you need to be with. It’s going to be great.”

“I hope it works out with you and Beatrice. And that you get to meet your goals and be with the people that you need to be with. I am glad I met you. I have found out so much about myself, and what I need.”

“So have I. I have learned a lot from you.” He paused then said, “My phone is going to die soon. If I cut out suddenly, that’s what happened.”

“Okay. As I was saying… I hope that you reach your goal. I can see where you’re going and you’re going to be great. Just be patient with yourself, and keep going. And…”

“Yeah?”

“Well, the Hindu have a phrase: “We will meet again on the road to love.” I want you to know— and I don’t mean it in…that… way—- that I will miss you, terribly. And that I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And then the phone cut out… and I was left alone with my thoughts. 

I promised him I’d email him my notes from the first two days but my mind is racing too fast to sort through all of them.

How do I feel?

How did Fiona Apple put it?

“the sign’s said stop/ but we went on wholehearted/ it ended bad but I love what we started”

I learned a new Scripture today. It said that “There is no fear in love, but perfect love throws fear outside.”(1 John 4:18) 

He chose her. But he also taught me how to be fearless… so that the next time someone comes, if he is right for me, I will not be too afraid to say what I mean. And love will be as strong as death then as now. (Song of Solomon 8:6) 

It hurts something awful. Tonight, I have chosen to cut off a dear friend so we do not destroy each other’s lives. I am confident, however, that when we do meet again on the road to love, we will look back at tonight, at the decision I made for us, and things will be as God intended. I look towards the future after a beer and a walk with Trina tonight. I tried to cry, but I couldn’t.

I don’t have any tears left in me for any man anymore; they have all been wrung out by Sal. 

So now I am left only with love, and I will “sigh without words” as Ezekiel did. (Ezekiel 24:17) Tomorrow I have work. This week, I have bills to pay. I’m nearly out of soap and toothpaste. I have to buy new underthings and a new cell phone. 

My life, as much as I want it to stop so I can just catch my breath, must go on.