Spice Girls: “When four become one…”

Friday Night

Our homes were like ships, and all of them had started to flood. We knew the flooding was going to continue for a long time and that it would, inevitably, ruin and end us. All we could do, really, was watch it unfold with interest while waiting for even more bad things to happen.

But then, this being from elsewhere (I don’t know where) visited me, telling me what I could do to change things, to save almost everyone — other than myself. After telling me, they also said that I could choose to forget what they’d said and live as normal and happy a life as possible (considering the circumstances) with the time we all had left. I knew I couldn’t.

So I sat down in front of this magical television screen, closed my eyes, and pressed the button, the one that would somehow change things as it killed me. And right after I did it, I blinked, took a breath, and found myself sitting in the exact same position but in a different room, on the other side of the screen, I guess.

I looked at an identical button on this side and I hoped, I hoped so badly, that I would be able to see the love of my life again, just one more time, if I pressed it. I pressed the button and saw the screen shift slightly, showing me what was still existing in that other room, on the other side: nothing. Just darkness and static.

I cried for a long time then, wishing that, if I just turned around on this side, maybe they’d already be behind me. But I wouldn’t actually look.

***

I had an interesting dream last night, too, and it’ll only take a sentence or two to relate it.

I was in a room with a few people who were telling me that it was mid-December now, that Christmas was just one more week away.

I looked at them with tears in my eyes — I couldn’t believe that so much time, almost a year, had passed without me remembering any of it.

And one of my dreams last week (about February 1st) was very similar — about blacking out, and missing things; feeling confused and lost and out of place…

***

After breaking up with James, I spent five quiet days alone (working and studying and eating well and resting) and then told a friend, via text, that I was resisting the urge to get back on the app.

“Why wait?” she said. “You can at least start some conversations with people.”

She’s right, I decided. That’s perfectly reasonable. So I downloaded Bumble again, tweaked my profile a bit (adding a few extra disclosures), and quickly fell into various conversations — too many.

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Knowing the queue was still, like always, a dangerously inexhaustible time vortex of sorts, I chose four guys to keep up with and gave each of them my number, and they all wanted to meet up this weekend:

  • Josh, filmmaker, 28 (we were going to watch a movie on Fri night)
  • Matt, park ranger, 28 (we were going to hike at his national park while the gov’t was still closed)
  • Brandon, chef, 28 (we were going to grab a super late dinner @ Paramount on Sat night)
  • John, IT guy, 28 (we were going to get Indian for lunch @ Pizitz on Sun) 

I told pretty much no one about these dates because I didn’t want to be bothered about them. This, btw, is what being bothered re: dates looks like:

  • What do they look like?
  • Are all of them atheists?
  • Are you sure you’re ready?
  • I thought you were taking a break!
  • Don’t text them too much!
  • Don’t seem too available!
  • Make sure you wear something nice.
  • Do they know you don’t shave your legs?
  • Make sure they don’t find out about the blog!
  • Just be yourself and try to have fun — you know; relax!

How the FUCK am I supposed to “relax” and “just be myself” or have ANY fun when this freaking phone won’t quit bossing me around, making me feel all weird and act completely unnatural?

So I kept these dates on the low-down, the hush-puppy-hush-hush, the whatever-the-heck-you-wanna-call-it. They were my secret dates.

Something VERY interesting: As I continued talking with these guys (pre-scheduled dates rolling around), there was one I knew I was especially excited to meet: John. He was the first and last person I’d message each day. He seemed very real to me; genuine, funny, kind.

Well, while I don’t believe in any specific spiritual entities, I definitely feel something out there, so I sent a general request slash wish slash intention out into the universe for the three other dates to somehow fall through if they weren’t going to be good ones… if they were going to waste my or the other person’s time (or if the dudes were simply terrible jackasses).

  • Well late Friday afternoon, Josh texted that he was SO sleepy, adjusting to this new work schedule… could we do something over the weekend instead? I told him I was pretty booked but that we’d def meet up sometime (as friends). Check!
  • Saturday AM, I deeply realized just how much I’d overbooked myself w/school and various social engagements (one of these social engagements: I was going to be meeting Brandon @ 9 PM and had told Matt I’d get up at 5 AM the next day to meet him all the way out in Daviston for hiking). So I preemptively canceled with Matt — not because I wasn’t interested in seeing him, but because I knew I needed to protect my physical and emotional health by getting enough rest. Check.
  • And then late Saturday PM, sitting at Paramount’s bar a few minutes early with a book and a fun mixed drink (including Bailey’s and butterscotch and other nice things), Brandon texted: A chef had just walked out on him and he was stuck at work until 11 — he was so sorry, he was such a douche, he had been so stoked to see me… he also, like Josh, asked what my plans were for the following day. Booked, I said, but I told him to NOT feel bad AT ALL. We’re still amigos! I assured him. We’ll catch up with each other some other time. Annnnnnnd check.

So today, I’m going on my fourth date this weekend, which is actually the first: lunch with John. Interesting how things work out, huh?

But TRUST: I’m NOT banking on him being the one and us lasting forever and ever, and I’m also not stupidly jumping into anything exclusive and weird. Despite initial infatuation and sparks and chemistry and blah blah blah, time reveals all, it seems. I’ve learned my lesson learned my lesson learned my lesson learned my lesson. (Hey — YOU can’t make fun of me bc I’m ALREADY making fun of myself, like Eminem.) 🙂

So stay tuned (BUT PLEASE, DEAR SWEET MOTHER AND EVERYONE ELSE: DO NOT flood me with questions OR advice… if you do, you’re going to make me throw up and go crazy and toss my phone into a river and then withdraw it from the river because I actually love the river but SERIOUSLY HATE my phone),

Still here

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Personal stories, lengthy rants, and lighthearted explosions of optimism, all neatly bundled into one blog.

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