Monday, March 08, 2010

Name dropping

On Saturday night, in the spirit of widening my social circle and embracing my renewed friendship with Heather, I went with her to her friend Rivka’s house for a little girls' gossip/party/chocolate/wine/whine night of glory.

I’ve met Rivka at a handful of Heather’s wedding functions; by no means do I know her well. Early on in the evening, I decided that I liked her group of friends well enough. It was a nice mix of people and personalities: I didn’t feel like I was the one outsider among many Rivka clones or anything of the sort.

We settled in around Rivka’s kitchen table. The talk, a millisecond later, turned to boys. Always boys.

Not longer after that, the conversation fractured to a handful. All about boys. Always all about boys.

Heather and I were participating in another conversation but we both caught an aside that Rivka made to her friend, Katy.

“Did I ever tell you that that boy you were seeing – Colin McFuckhead – friended me on Facebook?”

“WHAT?!” Heather has the loudest voice. And she played soccer with me an Colin.

There was this moment of pure awkward where my eyes bulged and Katy’s head whipped around to look at me.

“I already made that mistake,” I said, dryly. “A long time ago.”

Katy didn’t make a conversation of it, thank goodness. She offered a short, pathetic half-excuse about how they’d gone to high school together and she ran into him while going to see the boy she was really interested in (who she is now dating) play soccer. She didn’t give any details. I didn’t ask any questions.

“Now whenever I see him at soccer, he just pretends to not see me,” she said to Heather. “Does he do that to you?” I don’t know why she was asking Heather but I didn’t mind. Extrapolating details from my past about my relationship with Colin isn’t my favorite thing. Especially in a group consisting largely of strangers.

Katy steered the conversation to another topic, quickly. Bless her.

It rattled me, though.

It really rattled me.

I kept looking over at Katy. Trying to figure her out. Was she like me? Could we be classified as the same type? Was he completely noncommittal with her? Was she bothered by how much he drank or by how much he worked? How long did they last? Who ended it?

Bitch probably thought I was insane.

Truthfully, I felt a little insane.

When I went home, I dreamed about Colin. Dreamed that he was calling to apologize.

Which, sometimes, is something that I wish that he would do. Apologize – saying all the right words and doing all the right things – so that I no longer want to punch him and so that we could be cool with each other. That our interactions could be something other than him attempting to avoid me or starting awkward conversation and me shooting him hostile stares or giving him one word answers.

It isn’t going to happen.

But sometimes I still miss him.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Ugh - this happens with my ex occassionally and I hate it. I totally understand what you mean, and it sucks! Sorry girl! Someday they will no longer rattle us.

Mrs. Architect said...

Honestly....I hate to believe this and hope its not true...but i dont think that ever goes away.

 
Blog Template by Delicious Design Studio