All day today I’ll get sad and tears will fill my eyes… and I’ll think back to that perfect moment on Monday night, when I sat next to her in the restaurant and professed my love and we kissed and ate and drank wine. It was a perfect moment and I stopped to savor it.
The moments have ended.
Yesterday afternoon we were lying on the bed and she turned and said that something was on her mind. She said that my looking at her sometimes made her feel uncomfortable, that my stares were too intense. I told her that since she was leaving for Hawaii in a month that I felt my days were numbered and that I wanted to savor every day. I told her that it was going to be hard to put her on that plane, but I’d do it. That made me sad and I was somewhat depressed when I went to work. There was something there that I could not put my finger on.
That night a girl that used to work for me a year ago came in and wanted a job and I hired her. She is gorgeous and there has always been sexual tension between us but we’ve never acted on it. This girl also has long shapely legs, something that Eliza longs for (though her legs are extremely beautiful) and I knew that this would cause Eliza to feel insecure. I also guessed that Eliza would notice the tension between us. To keep Eliza from playing the guessing game and doubts and insecurities that might arise, I wrote her a note telling her that there was sexual tension between the two of us from a year ago but that She (Eliza) was the one that I loved. Eliza took it the wrong way and wrote me a letter which made me very depressed. Since I am letting a person in need crash at my apartment and I’ve been staying with Eliza, I had no place to sleep and so I crashed at the bar, waking up when the janitor arrived.
The next day I looked for Eliza to have a talk with her and could not find her. So I wrote a letter and stuck it in her apartment door and then stopped for coffee. She was there and we took a walk. She was emotional and I was in tears. She thought that things moved too fast, she needed space, that she enjoyed this feeling of being free from job, family, boyfriend, responsibilities and to be able to go to Hawaii if she wanted and more. I don’t quite understand, but I think that the gist was that I weighed her down or was too much of a relationship for her. She told me that I was still a great guy, those words tearing my heart out. We held hands for the last stretch to her apartment and I slowed down… this was the last walk with her I’d likely have with her. We had an embrace at her apartment. I wanted another… one last kiss, but when I made a small move for one last kiss to remember, I didn’t feel any reciprocal move from her so I kissed her forehead. She was crying, I was crying, and we parted.
I turned and went into a ravine nearby with a creek and lots of trees and wept. Sitting there I let my emotions wrack me and my phone rings. It was Ricky, my stepbrother, who has never called me in 8 years, who I’ve seen once in ten years, and he says that he is picking up a load in Seattle (he is a truck driver) and that he is passing through Eugene tomorrow and he’d like to see me and perhaps meet that girl that he’s been hearing about, the one that I’ve fallen in love with. The sheer irony of all this nearly did me in and I tried not to cry harder while on the phone with him, keeping the conversation short before I lost control.
Time to go to work and I was not in the mood to DJ so I called in the other DJ and had him cover a shift. The staff were all concerned about me, because it was apparent that I’d been crying and that I was very emotional. I lied and said that there was a death in the family. I called Eliza later on to see if perhaps we could still go to the Shakespeare show on Sunday, no strings, no physical contact, just friends, that she didn’t have to answer now but could let me know Sunday morning. She said that she couldn’t talk as her voice was breaking up from crying. She sounded like she was in pain and it brought fresh tears to my eyes.
Right now I am so tired and my eyes hurt so much. For the past 12 hours I’ve walked around on the verge of crying, trying to put up as much of a facade as possible, when all I really want to do is go out into the mountains for a few weeks and let myself heal.
I don’t believe in god, I don’t believe in a meaning to life, I don’t believe in a purpose, I don’t believe that things happen for a reason. But I do see beauty and in Eliza I saw (and still do) beauty. I do believe in Love… though why that is… is a mystery.
I remember a conversation with Eliza when I told her that relationships over a month were rare. She looked puzzled and asked why…
I wish I knew.