...are sometimes my favorite moments of a week. Last week, Sunday morning found me lying on the grass, sun dappling my skin as it shone through the tree leaves above me, my head on The Optimist's shoulder, one hand in his, and my other arm around The Scientist, who's head was resting on my chest. We weren't saying much, because nothing needed to be said. We were tracing lazy, delicate circles across one another's skin, running fingers through hair, gently kissing foreheads. After the emotionally charged night we'd just completed, it was the perfect come-down. In fact, it was very nearly perfect regardless of how the night before or any other night had been spent. It was one of those beautiful Colorado summer mornings, that powder-blue cloudless sky, sun warming us just as a gentle breeze rustled the grass and cooled our faces.
Perhaps this Sunday morning isn't as epically romantic or exceedingly perfect. But I still find myself very, very happy. I am the first one awake after coming back to my mother's from a very late night singing Karaoke and flashing back to last summer with Roomie. It's just myself and my cat, and we essentially have the house to ourselves. I've dressed myself in one of my boys' T-shirts, which hangs off my chest and just barely covers my ass, showing off just a little bit of my uncharacteristically blue underwear. Wearing this shirt, which belonged to P once, makes me realize that I have managed to end up with T-shirts (or a button-down) from every old lover, but have none from any of my current partners. I decide I need to change this. I will need to stealthily acquire shirts from my partners. And by stealthily, of course, I mean asking if I can sleep in his shirt, and then asking if I can keep it in the morning. I do love the way a boy's shirt smells like him. It's good for helping me to not feel so alone on those nights when I am, in fact alone.
But this morning, as I have the house to myself, I boot up my computer, and go straight to the playlist I created when The Optimist and I were together last. (Yes, I saved the playlist.) It's mostly pretty acoustic songs, with a mild dose of mush thrown in there. I remember making the list as he and I were lying in my bed and him (at least humoring me) that we have strikingly similar taste in music. In any case, all of it is beautiful. And it makes me happy. And so I decide to start dancing around my empty house. In my T-shirt and underwear, dancing to Matt Nathanson and Joshua Radin and Jay Brannan and Angels & Airwaves and Regina Spektor and Citizen Cope.
And I realize how exceedingly happy I am. Without complications. I am, very simply, very content. I have been so incredibly lucky as of late with several things. Some of them are material and haven't quite materialized yet, so again, I'm hesitant to jinx them. But it's so much more than that. I am realizing how incredibly lucky I am to be surrounded by so many beautiful, giving, incredible people. I honestly believe I am one of the luckiest people in the world. I have so much love in my life - already more than I think most people ever get to experience. And, as I wrote about earlier this week, I feel like it's even warranted. That doesn't feel like being conceited, though. It really feels like, now that I'm so keenly aware, I want to make sure I appreciate it and let these people know how wonderful they make my life.
See? Look at how mushy I've become. It all started with last weekend, with The Scientist, and yes, meeting The Optimist. I do blame some of this optimism on him - it's definitely contagious. But all of my friends, my New Family have had a part in it. C certainly had a major role with her revelation. And it's just kept spreading. The Pilot is coming to visit next week. I've come to some conclusions about other people in my life and am able to be so much more zen about it. Not hoping to find things from partners that they simply aren't able to give me. And just being able to appreciate them for that.
And there will be some changes. All of this optimism has come with a new kind of self-awareness on what makes me happy, and what it feels like to be so happy. I will be moving away from those things that don't make me happy, spending more time around and doing those things that do make me happy. And things are just going to keep getting better.
I'll close with one of those songs The Optimist and I both realized we love. Thank you, Ms. Spektor.
Showing posts with label Roomie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roomie. Show all posts
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
The end of Edward.
Yes, the end of him. I'm not doing this anymore. He went too far. At least, I believe he did. I don't think I deserved what I got last night.
I usually don't post texts and messages in their entirety, but I think in the interest of fairness, and in me trying to see if I really did ask for this, I'm going to publish the whole interaction. It stretched from about 330 in the afternoon, when he started texting me about my facebook status - which were song lyrics from the emo song "Almost," saying "Sasha...Almost had you, but I guess that doesn't cut it - I almost wish you would have loved me too."
Edward: Almost had who... may I ask.. sorry, just read your facebook.
Sasha: Oh, they're just song lyrics. But they could apply to a couple people in my life, ha. Why?
Edward: Nothin...
Sasha: No, what's up?
Edward: So... no biggie, just a little jealous.
Sasha: Ha. Jealous of what?
Edward: idk, nothing I guess. nevermind, just me being silly.
Sasha: Ha. Don't worry, you're my only almost lover. hehe.
Edward: only almost lover?
Sasha: More song lyrics. Look it up - it's a pretty song!
Edward: whats that mean for me as an almost lover... sorry for my mild jealousy but i kind of consider you property of Edward... in a way. ;)
Sasha: What do you mean by that? Elaborate, please.
Edward: mine... maybe.
Sasha: Repeating yourself doesn't count as elaboration.
Edward: your my baby, my love, my dream girl, my sex goddess, and in my mind my one and only.
Sasha: (silence)
Edward: ...maybe.
Sasha: Wow.
Edward: ...sorry :(
Sasha: No, no. Nothing to apologize for. It's just... intense.
Edward: almost a decade of being in love with someone does that.
Sasha: (silence)
Edward: ... wow i feel dumb now. :(
Sasha: No, you're not dumb. It's just me. You know I'm weird about people telling me they love me slash romanticism.
Edward: even slash a person who's in love with you... kinda stings knowing my feelings for ya aren't mutual... oh wells i still do love ya. cant change a heart.
Sasha: I wasn't trying to. Really, these are just my issues with people.
Edward: i didn't think I was just anyone. i figured after so many years doing nothing but love you would put me a lil bit higher up on your list. but ok i understand.
Sasha: No no, don't do that.
Edward: ...yeah... nevermind forget i said anything. at all.
Sasha: I will not! I just wish I could make you understand.
Edward: what, i get it. no worries just forget i made an ass of myself.
Sasha: Shit. Why do I always do this? Please don't be mad at me.
Edward: im not mad at you, just upset with myself for acting like a idiotic jack ass.
Sasha: Don't do that. These are my issues. Sometime I probably should walk you through my theories on relationships and how i live my life now. Might help explain me.
Edward: no, trust me i understand. after all its me, not really a great catch to go loving all willy nilly... or something. idk whatever.
Sasha: That's not it at all.
Edward: yeah... well im just a sex toy. i get it.
Sasha: Dammit. How can I make you understand that the issue here is me?
Edward: yeah, of course. no worries i understand and ill be fine. and im not mad at you so everything is fine.
Sasha: Goddammit.
Edward: yeah, its fine. you cant love me back. thats fine.
Sasha:This seems like a shitty way to have this conversation. But yes, I have ridiculous issues w falling in love. It scares me shitless.
Edward: ill just have to learn to share... or something... idk i dont feel too good right now.
Sasha: I'm sorry. I wish you'd let me explain.
Edward: no need to explain or any need to stay tied down to just one person. you just cant love me back. i completely understand. but i cant see a future with me, you, and whoever else may be tossed into the mix. im not a fan of sharing someone i genuinely care for. obviously too much for my own good.
Sasha: Well then i'm sorry that my view that monogamy has no bearing on affection or relationship success or importance isn't something you agree with.
Edward: ... yeah... in other words just me isnt enough. forget it. im not feeling so good so enjoy whoever with whatever. bye now.
Sasha: OK. This obviously isn't something you can deal with. I understand that. When you want to have an actual grownup discussion, let me know.
Edward: actual grownup discussion about what, how i love you and want yo be only yours but me alone wouldnt be enough for you, or even capable of caring back for me?
Sasha: No, a grownup conversation about realistic relationship possibilities that make people happy, where everyone gets what they need WITHOUT all the drama that destroys people and relationships and love.
Edward: there's nothing really to discuss, you dont want just me, or even me at all really. i love you too much to allow myself to be in any kind of multiple partner relationship. so yeah.
Edward: so i want and love you, you want more than love me, and cant love me back... pure and simple. so i understand, and im sorry im not ok being just one of your many toys.
Sasha: No, I never said I can't (or even don't) love you back.
Edward: yeah, and where i get to sit around while you fuck around with other guys. sorry but no.
Edward: simply put me, and my feelings for you are not what you want... at least not only what you want. so fine, ill pick up the pieces from you once again, and try to move on. i hoped id be the only you wanted but oh the fuck well. not gonna let anyone, especially you hurt me again. not again.
Sasha: Stop that! Goddammit how can I have a conversation w you if you just jump straight to the guilt trip? You make me so fucking angry that I can't see straight. Swear to god were you here I would scream at you then kiss you until you got over yourself long enough to shut up and listen to me.
Edward: listen to what, i got everything youd try and tell me. fuck monogamy and all that right... ill take your advice then. Edward the whore is back... yay.
Sasha: Fine. Do what you need to to make yourself feel better. And blame me or whatever you need. And maybe when you're done being angry at me again you'll want me. Because I will still want you. I want you and I want you to be happy. Sometimes those seem like mutually exclusive things.
Edward: but you dont want just me, so thats the point... i give the fuck up. no amount of caring for anyone makes up for being hurt. not again.
Sasha: I never set out to hurt you. And I am sorry if my honesty did that. And I'm sorry that I don't want an exclusive relationship right now. I fuck those up too easily. Altough it looks like I've done a bang-up job on this one, too.
Edward: i dont blame you. your just incapable of producing the same feelings i do. i only blame myself for being such an naieve ignorant jack ass. sorry. bye.
Sasha: Tell yourself whatever you need to. Like I said, when you want to give me a chance, or at least make an effort to know who I am, let me know.
Edward: yep. shouldve known it would come to this. you have no reason or right to give an ounce of shit about me. so enjoy who ever with whatever. hope its fun and fulfilling for you. goodbye sasha.
Sasha: OK. Just keep going ahead with the guilt-trip. I'll fall back on those people who don't make me feel like shit for being who I am. Good luck with everything.
Edward: ha... i cant believe i thought you actually cared about me. what the hell was i thinking. hahaha.
Edward: i think i got ya figured out. cant believe i thought you wanted me. ha.
Edward: yeah you too. enjoy your other lil toys. hope none of them fall for ya.
Sasha: Yeah, me too. Maybe they won't get such a kick out of trying to make me feel like a whore.
Edward: whatever. all i wanted was to be cared about like i do for you. but just one dick apparently isnt enough for Sasha. yay.
And there is where I threw the phone across the room, and it broke into five pieces. I think I terrified my roommates. Nevertheless, I slammed the rest of my drink, picked up the phone and went back to my room. When I came back a few minutes later, I asked my roommates if I could have some of their vodka, they both just stammered out "yeah yeah yeah of course, whatever you want!"
I didn't respond to Edward again throughout the rest of the night. But I didn't quite have the self restraint to not open the text messages he kept sending me.
Edward: god, i wasted fucking years on someone who i never be "good enough" for... fuck this shit im fucking done. ill just go do what you do.
Edward: none the less, i promise to never bother you a fucking gain. no need to be guilt trip for no reason.
Edward: god damn it Sasha why'd you have to fool me for so fucking long into thinking i mattered to you. god damn it!
Edward: what? you dont think i deserve a response as to why you bullshitted me for these past couple of years? or are you too busy fucking around with your other toys?
Edward: HELLO! ID LOVE TO KNOW WHY BULLSHITTED ME SO MUCH FOR SO LONG! HELLO!
Edward: PULL WHO'S EVER COCK OUTTA YOUR MOUTH AND ANSWER ME PLEASE!
Edward: yeah, didnt fucking think you had a reason.
Edward: just one more regret in my life. goodbye then Sasha, enjoy your life without me guilt tripping you or burdening you again.
Here is where he started calling me. I didn't answer. He called at least once between each o the following texts.
Edward: hmph. guess i didnt matter that much then. fine.
Edward: ... so ignoring me. fun. and here i was trying to salvage something, but i guess not then. enjoy yourself now .
Edward: my last attempt at salvage sasha. tonight or never. and seriously you will never hear from me again unless i get some kind of semblance to an explanation.
Edward: i merely wish to know why ive been bullshitted by the one person i actually trusted. why? if no answer then a permanent fairwell.
Edward: well then, you have fun now. goodbye sasha and take care, sicne you only want one... no wait many things. use a condom now. bye.
Edward: ill be sure to erase any way of us contacting each other again. facebook, phone number, everything. enjoy yourself now.
Edward: I KNOW YOUR BUSY FUCKING AROUND BUT AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH AND YOU'VE PUT ME THROUGH I DESERVE AN EXPLANATION! I DESERVE CLOSURE OF SOME SORT!
Edward: so when your done getting your fill, it be at lest decent of you to explain. if you gave even an ounce of fuck about me... ever. then at least give me that.
Edward: do you really not give a flying fuck about me enough to at least give me that?!? id like how you hurt me to not destroy me more than necessary, so how bout it?
Edward: fine, ill just do the one thing i knoe will curb broken feelings. forget i asked anything of you. ever.
Edward: could you take who's ever cock out of your mouth for a second to fucking talk to me? im hurting here in more ways than one.
The last message was left at 2:48 am.
And then he abandoned the text messages in favor of voicemails.
"I still believe I deserve some kind of fucking explanation from you goddammit. I mean, fuck, I poured almost a fucking decade into trying to be with you, just to have you fuck me over, hell, worse than you've ever done. And why? It's nice to know how much you actually give a fuck about me. Yknow I really thought if anyone would be honest and not bullshit me, it woulda been you."
"Could you stop being a bitch for like five fucking minutes? Maybe? Or not, which fucking ever. God... damn. I cannot believe you did this again. Oh I am so fucking stupid. Wow."
When I threw my phone and went into my room, I couldn't hold back the tears. I was so angry. And so hurt. And felt ridiculously alone. They were the exact same feelings I used to have when ex hit and/or screamed at me. I just wanted to curl up into a little ball. I could tell myself, intellectually, that he was being childish, that he was just trying to get a rise out of me, but emotionally, he was beating me down. It was working. I sent out a few frantic texts and clung to my computer, hoping I'd find someone online who I could talk to who might not think I'm a life-ruining whore. Thank god, the Pilot was on. I had to reboot my computer, but then we started Skyping.
I still feel bad for unloading so heavily on him. He actually saw me crying (and the requisite coping mechanism, drinking), and I'm sure I was blubbery and not making any sense as he tried desperately to reason with me. But he was amazing. He stayed on Skype with me for well over two hours. Making me laugh, plotting Edward's demise... and telling me not to answer every time Edward called me. The final count was 26 times, the last one at about 315am.
Roomie also happened to be online in New Zealand, so she repeated the things I'd said to her the night before about our pasts not defining us and there being nothing wrong with being who we are. Again, it's one of those things I knew, intellectually, but my irrational emotions were winning over. At one point, she asked me how I was feeling about the whole thing, and I just said "i feel like a whore who won't ever be loved." This was her response:
"I admire you so much for how comfortable you are with your sexuality and how fearless you always are. Like you said, you shouldn't let anyone make you feel like shit for the things in your past. They're just things you've done, they're not who you are. As for never being loved, I love you, so you know that's not true. I know that there is someone out there that is amazing and worthy of you, and you'll find them because you are amazing. You have this energy that sucks people in. You deserve to be happy, and I know you will find overwhelming happiness."
And it helped.
A couple hours after the Pilot and I had started talking, Friend logged on to AIM as well. (I'd texted him asking if he was around.) The three of us chatted as they made more plans for Edward's destruction, and did their best to convince my intoxicated, emotional ass that I wasn't a whore and that I was loved. They did an amazing job. Some of it was reason, some of it was emotional appeal, mixed in with a lot of reminding me that they both love me. When it was becoming apparent that Edward wasn't going to let up (and I, in my stubborness, wasn't going to turn off my phone), the Pilot suggested he call me and we take a walk together. (Virtually, of course.) I put shoes on, but then remembered that it isn't particularly safe to walk around alone at 3am in my neighborhood, not to mention it was 45 degrees and I was already shivering from the drinking... But I still called him, and then we dialed in Friend, and I curled up in my bed.
It was so soothing to hear their voices. And hearing them together, it was like we were all actually together, back with the witty banter. The only thing that could have made it better were if they were actually there with me, because if they were, I know I would have been getting more cuddling and love than I'd even know what to do with.
Bear checked in periodically through the evening, although he was out doing things and so didn't get the worst of my meltdown. He did, however, send me the song he said he chose for me (after my selecting "My life would suck without you" for him. Here it is:
The Pilot and Friend stayed on the phone with me until 4am, when I promised I'd go to sleep. I thanked them, not knowing how I would have coped if I hadn't had them there for me. I told them I love them, they reminded me they love me, too. And I believed them. And didn't feel so worthless anymore.
I got up to get ready for bed and couldn't help but look at my facebook. Edward had sent me a message, but this time, reading it didn't make me crumble. I think my boys got through to me. In any case, here's the message:
"... Thank you for helping realize how fucking ignorant i was over you. Its been so long since i've had my heart broken i almost forgot how much it really hurts. Hope this whole thing makes you a bit happiier. Enjoy your life sasha, without me. You didnt lose me, i lost you. Goodbye and thanks again, i promise i wont allow myself to be so fucking naive again."
And the only thing I could think, was how much more I WILL enjoy my life without him. And how incredibly lucky I am to have so many people who love me. And are willing to give up their friday night to console me, thousands of miles away though I may be. The Pilot called me this morning to make sure I was alive and in one piece (he'd seen the worst of it... I think I scared him a little. I'm sorry for that, dear.). Edward called me again right after the Pilot did, and just left me an empty voicemail.
So I've published everything here as a way of purging it all. It's deleted from my phone, from my inbox... He's deleted from my life. It feels good. I have more than enough love in my life, and thanks to those people, I even think I might deserve some of it. And I'm pretty confident I didn't deserve how Edward treated me. I didn't lie to him, although he begs to differ. And actually, reading through all this, I can't exactly find the point where I did anything wrong. Where I lied to him or broke him or anything. If anyone else can, I'd love to know.
In the meantime, though, I'm going to go back to revelling in my wonderful life, full of incredible people who make it worth living. Thank you to all of you. I love you very, very much.
Sasha.
I usually don't post texts and messages in their entirety, but I think in the interest of fairness, and in me trying to see if I really did ask for this, I'm going to publish the whole interaction. It stretched from about 330 in the afternoon, when he started texting me about my facebook status - which were song lyrics from the emo song "Almost," saying "Sasha...Almost had you, but I guess that doesn't cut it - I almost wish you would have loved me too."
Edward: Almost had who... may I ask.. sorry, just read your facebook.
Sasha: Oh, they're just song lyrics. But they could apply to a couple people in my life, ha. Why?
Edward: Nothin...
Sasha: No, what's up?
Edward: So... no biggie, just a little jealous.
Sasha: Ha. Jealous of what?
Edward: idk, nothing I guess. nevermind, just me being silly.
Sasha: Ha. Don't worry, you're my only almost lover. hehe.
Edward: only almost lover?
Sasha: More song lyrics. Look it up - it's a pretty song!
Edward: whats that mean for me as an almost lover... sorry for my mild jealousy but i kind of consider you property of Edward... in a way. ;)
Sasha: What do you mean by that? Elaborate, please.
Edward: mine... maybe.
Sasha: Repeating yourself doesn't count as elaboration.
Edward: your my baby, my love, my dream girl, my sex goddess, and in my mind my one and only.
Sasha: (silence)
Edward: ...maybe.
Sasha: Wow.
Edward: ...sorry :(
Sasha: No, no. Nothing to apologize for. It's just... intense.
Edward: almost a decade of being in love with someone does that.
Sasha: (silence)
Edward: ... wow i feel dumb now. :(
Sasha: No, you're not dumb. It's just me. You know I'm weird about people telling me they love me slash romanticism.
Edward: even slash a person who's in love with you... kinda stings knowing my feelings for ya aren't mutual... oh wells i still do love ya. cant change a heart.
Sasha: I wasn't trying to. Really, these are just my issues with people.
Edward: i didn't think I was just anyone. i figured after so many years doing nothing but love you would put me a lil bit higher up on your list. but ok i understand.
Sasha: No no, don't do that.
Edward: ...yeah... nevermind forget i said anything. at all.
Sasha: I will not! I just wish I could make you understand.
Edward: what, i get it. no worries just forget i made an ass of myself.
Sasha: Shit. Why do I always do this? Please don't be mad at me.
Edward: im not mad at you, just upset with myself for acting like a idiotic jack ass.
Sasha: Don't do that. These are my issues. Sometime I probably should walk you through my theories on relationships and how i live my life now. Might help explain me.
Edward: no, trust me i understand. after all its me, not really a great catch to go loving all willy nilly... or something. idk whatever.
Sasha: That's not it at all.
Edward: yeah... well im just a sex toy. i get it.
Sasha: Dammit. How can I make you understand that the issue here is me?
Edward: yeah, of course. no worries i understand and ill be fine. and im not mad at you so everything is fine.
Sasha: Goddammit.
Edward: yeah, its fine. you cant love me back. thats fine.
Sasha:This seems like a shitty way to have this conversation. But yes, I have ridiculous issues w falling in love. It scares me shitless.
Edward: ill just have to learn to share... or something... idk i dont feel too good right now.
Sasha: I'm sorry. I wish you'd let me explain.
Edward: no need to explain or any need to stay tied down to just one person. you just cant love me back. i completely understand. but i cant see a future with me, you, and whoever else may be tossed into the mix. im not a fan of sharing someone i genuinely care for. obviously too much for my own good.
Sasha: Well then i'm sorry that my view that monogamy has no bearing on affection or relationship success or importance isn't something you agree with.
Edward: ... yeah... in other words just me isnt enough. forget it. im not feeling so good so enjoy whoever with whatever. bye now.
Sasha: OK. This obviously isn't something you can deal with. I understand that. When you want to have an actual grownup discussion, let me know.
Edward: actual grownup discussion about what, how i love you and want yo be only yours but me alone wouldnt be enough for you, or even capable of caring back for me?
Sasha: No, a grownup conversation about realistic relationship possibilities that make people happy, where everyone gets what they need WITHOUT all the drama that destroys people and relationships and love.
Edward: there's nothing really to discuss, you dont want just me, or even me at all really. i love you too much to allow myself to be in any kind of multiple partner relationship. so yeah.
Edward: so i want and love you, you want more than love me, and cant love me back... pure and simple. so i understand, and im sorry im not ok being just one of your many toys.
Sasha: No, I never said I can't (or even don't) love you back.
Edward: yeah, and where i get to sit around while you fuck around with other guys. sorry but no.
Edward: simply put me, and my feelings for you are not what you want... at least not only what you want. so fine, ill pick up the pieces from you once again, and try to move on. i hoped id be the only you wanted but oh the fuck well. not gonna let anyone, especially you hurt me again. not again.
Sasha: Stop that! Goddammit how can I have a conversation w you if you just jump straight to the guilt trip? You make me so fucking angry that I can't see straight. Swear to god were you here I would scream at you then kiss you until you got over yourself long enough to shut up and listen to me.
Edward: listen to what, i got everything youd try and tell me. fuck monogamy and all that right... ill take your advice then. Edward the whore is back... yay.
Sasha: Fine. Do what you need to to make yourself feel better. And blame me or whatever you need. And maybe when you're done being angry at me again you'll want me. Because I will still want you. I want you and I want you to be happy. Sometimes those seem like mutually exclusive things.
Edward: but you dont want just me, so thats the point... i give the fuck up. no amount of caring for anyone makes up for being hurt. not again.
Sasha: I never set out to hurt you. And I am sorry if my honesty did that. And I'm sorry that I don't want an exclusive relationship right now. I fuck those up too easily. Altough it looks like I've done a bang-up job on this one, too.
Edward: i dont blame you. your just incapable of producing the same feelings i do. i only blame myself for being such an naieve ignorant jack ass. sorry. bye.
Sasha: Tell yourself whatever you need to. Like I said, when you want to give me a chance, or at least make an effort to know who I am, let me know.
Edward: yep. shouldve known it would come to this. you have no reason or right to give an ounce of shit about me. so enjoy who ever with whatever. hope its fun and fulfilling for you. goodbye sasha.
Sasha: OK. Just keep going ahead with the guilt-trip. I'll fall back on those people who don't make me feel like shit for being who I am. Good luck with everything.
Edward: ha... i cant believe i thought you actually cared about me. what the hell was i thinking. hahaha.
Edward: i think i got ya figured out. cant believe i thought you wanted me. ha.
Edward: yeah you too. enjoy your other lil toys. hope none of them fall for ya.
Sasha: Yeah, me too. Maybe they won't get such a kick out of trying to make me feel like a whore.
Edward: whatever. all i wanted was to be cared about like i do for you. but just one dick apparently isnt enough for Sasha. yay.
And there is where I threw the phone across the room, and it broke into five pieces. I think I terrified my roommates. Nevertheless, I slammed the rest of my drink, picked up the phone and went back to my room. When I came back a few minutes later, I asked my roommates if I could have some of their vodka, they both just stammered out "yeah yeah yeah of course, whatever you want!"
I didn't respond to Edward again throughout the rest of the night. But I didn't quite have the self restraint to not open the text messages he kept sending me.
Edward: god, i wasted fucking years on someone who i never be "good enough" for... fuck this shit im fucking done. ill just go do what you do.
Edward: none the less, i promise to never bother you a fucking gain. no need to be guilt trip for no reason.
Edward: god damn it Sasha why'd you have to fool me for so fucking long into thinking i mattered to you. god damn it!
Edward: what? you dont think i deserve a response as to why you bullshitted me for these past couple of years? or are you too busy fucking around with your other toys?
Edward: HELLO! ID LOVE TO KNOW WHY BULLSHITTED ME SO MUCH FOR SO LONG! HELLO!
Edward: PULL WHO'S EVER COCK OUTTA YOUR MOUTH AND ANSWER ME PLEASE!
Edward: yeah, didnt fucking think you had a reason.
Edward: just one more regret in my life. goodbye then Sasha, enjoy your life without me guilt tripping you or burdening you again.
Here is where he started calling me. I didn't answer. He called at least once between each o the following texts.
Edward: hmph. guess i didnt matter that much then. fine.
Edward: ... so ignoring me. fun. and here i was trying to salvage something, but i guess not then. enjoy yourself now .
Edward: my last attempt at salvage sasha. tonight or never. and seriously you will never hear from me again unless i get some kind of semblance to an explanation.
Edward: i merely wish to know why ive been bullshitted by the one person i actually trusted. why? if no answer then a permanent fairwell.
Edward: well then, you have fun now. goodbye sasha and take care, sicne you only want one... no wait many things. use a condom now. bye.
Edward: ill be sure to erase any way of us contacting each other again. facebook, phone number, everything. enjoy yourself now.
Edward: I KNOW YOUR BUSY FUCKING AROUND BUT AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH AND YOU'VE PUT ME THROUGH I DESERVE AN EXPLANATION! I DESERVE CLOSURE OF SOME SORT!
Edward: so when your done getting your fill, it be at lest decent of you to explain. if you gave even an ounce of fuck about me... ever. then at least give me that.
Edward: do you really not give a flying fuck about me enough to at least give me that?!? id like how you hurt me to not destroy me more than necessary, so how bout it?
Edward: fine, ill just do the one thing i knoe will curb broken feelings. forget i asked anything of you. ever.
Edward: could you take who's ever cock out of your mouth for a second to fucking talk to me? im hurting here in more ways than one.
The last message was left at 2:48 am.
And then he abandoned the text messages in favor of voicemails.
"I still believe I deserve some kind of fucking explanation from you goddammit. I mean, fuck, I poured almost a fucking decade into trying to be with you, just to have you fuck me over, hell, worse than you've ever done. And why? It's nice to know how much you actually give a fuck about me. Yknow I really thought if anyone would be honest and not bullshit me, it woulda been you."
"Could you stop being a bitch for like five fucking minutes? Maybe? Or not, which fucking ever. God... damn. I cannot believe you did this again. Oh I am so fucking stupid. Wow."
When I threw my phone and went into my room, I couldn't hold back the tears. I was so angry. And so hurt. And felt ridiculously alone. They were the exact same feelings I used to have when ex hit and/or screamed at me. I just wanted to curl up into a little ball. I could tell myself, intellectually, that he was being childish, that he was just trying to get a rise out of me, but emotionally, he was beating me down. It was working. I sent out a few frantic texts and clung to my computer, hoping I'd find someone online who I could talk to who might not think I'm a life-ruining whore. Thank god, the Pilot was on. I had to reboot my computer, but then we started Skyping.
I still feel bad for unloading so heavily on him. He actually saw me crying (and the requisite coping mechanism, drinking), and I'm sure I was blubbery and not making any sense as he tried desperately to reason with me. But he was amazing. He stayed on Skype with me for well over two hours. Making me laugh, plotting Edward's demise... and telling me not to answer every time Edward called me. The final count was 26 times, the last one at about 315am.
Roomie also happened to be online in New Zealand, so she repeated the things I'd said to her the night before about our pasts not defining us and there being nothing wrong with being who we are. Again, it's one of those things I knew, intellectually, but my irrational emotions were winning over. At one point, she asked me how I was feeling about the whole thing, and I just said "i feel like a whore who won't ever be loved." This was her response:
"I admire you so much for how comfortable you are with your sexuality and how fearless you always are. Like you said, you shouldn't let anyone make you feel like shit for the things in your past. They're just things you've done, they're not who you are. As for never being loved, I love you, so you know that's not true. I know that there is someone out there that is amazing and worthy of you, and you'll find them because you are amazing. You have this energy that sucks people in. You deserve to be happy, and I know you will find overwhelming happiness."
And it helped.
A couple hours after the Pilot and I had started talking, Friend logged on to AIM as well. (I'd texted him asking if he was around.) The three of us chatted as they made more plans for Edward's destruction, and did their best to convince my intoxicated, emotional ass that I wasn't a whore and that I was loved. They did an amazing job. Some of it was reason, some of it was emotional appeal, mixed in with a lot of reminding me that they both love me. When it was becoming apparent that Edward wasn't going to let up (and I, in my stubborness, wasn't going to turn off my phone), the Pilot suggested he call me and we take a walk together. (Virtually, of course.) I put shoes on, but then remembered that it isn't particularly safe to walk around alone at 3am in my neighborhood, not to mention it was 45 degrees and I was already shivering from the drinking... But I still called him, and then we dialed in Friend, and I curled up in my bed.
It was so soothing to hear their voices. And hearing them together, it was like we were all actually together, back with the witty banter. The only thing that could have made it better were if they were actually there with me, because if they were, I know I would have been getting more cuddling and love than I'd even know what to do with.
Bear checked in periodically through the evening, although he was out doing things and so didn't get the worst of my meltdown. He did, however, send me the song he said he chose for me (after my selecting "My life would suck without you" for him. Here it is:
The Pilot and Friend stayed on the phone with me until 4am, when I promised I'd go to sleep. I thanked them, not knowing how I would have coped if I hadn't had them there for me. I told them I love them, they reminded me they love me, too. And I believed them. And didn't feel so worthless anymore.
I got up to get ready for bed and couldn't help but look at my facebook. Edward had sent me a message, but this time, reading it didn't make me crumble. I think my boys got through to me. In any case, here's the message:
"... Thank you for helping realize how fucking ignorant i was over you. Its been so long since i've had my heart broken i almost forgot how much it really hurts. Hope this whole thing makes you a bit happiier. Enjoy your life sasha, without me. You didnt lose me, i lost you. Goodbye and thanks again, i promise i wont allow myself to be so fucking naive again."
And the only thing I could think, was how much more I WILL enjoy my life without him. And how incredibly lucky I am to have so many people who love me. And are willing to give up their friday night to console me, thousands of miles away though I may be. The Pilot called me this morning to make sure I was alive and in one piece (he'd seen the worst of it... I think I scared him a little. I'm sorry for that, dear.). Edward called me again right after the Pilot did, and just left me an empty voicemail.
So I've published everything here as a way of purging it all. It's deleted from my phone, from my inbox... He's deleted from my life. It feels good. I have more than enough love in my life, and thanks to those people, I even think I might deserve some of it. And I'm pretty confident I didn't deserve how Edward treated me. I didn't lie to him, although he begs to differ. And actually, reading through all this, I can't exactly find the point where I did anything wrong. Where I lied to him or broke him or anything. If anyone else can, I'd love to know.
In the meantime, though, I'm going to go back to revelling in my wonderful life, full of incredible people who make it worth living. Thank you to all of you. I love you very, very much.
Sasha.
Friday, March 13, 2009
about P.
I was updating my "featuring" section over the past few days, and I realized that I still have P listed there. And as I tried to edit his description appropriately, I fell short. Because the truth is, I don't know what to say about him anymore. He has, in a subtle yet simultaneously forcible manner, removed himself completely from my life. I haven't spoken to him since he left Colorado at the beginning of the year. I see him online sometimes, and I don't even have to keep my hand from clicking on his name to send a message. (Which might not seem like a big deal, but you should see me try to do the same when I notice Edward or nonboyfriend's name pop up on the screen.) I don't have the slightest idea what's going on with his life. My last memory of him is him looking at me, eyes pleading, begging me not to ask him the questions I so desperately wanted to while we were at a mutual friend's house. He promised me he'd explain some other day. I told him I could wait.
And then I forgot to ask him. I couldn't remember the details about what, exactly, I'd needed to say to him, through my drunken haze.
And it breaks my heart to think that this might really have been the last chance I got to speak to him. And I blew it. I was too damn drunk to function properly, and then too embarrassed to admit as much when he asked me about the conversation a few days later. Our single conversation since was contrived and painfully limited in scope. So reading over his description in my blog, one I wrote over a year ago, physically hurts. I see myself writing words like "soulmate" and "unconditional love" and I realize it's entirely possible that I've lost all that. And what's maybe most interesting and at the same time most painful, is that I'm not mourning the loss of a lover. I'm mourning the loss of a friend. Because he isn't my friend anymore. He hasn't been my lover for some time, and that was something I could deal with. Especially because things never really, fundamentally, changed between us - there were only the logistics of whether or not we were sleeping together that month. He still knew me better than anyone, and I, him. He still understood me without words and knew exactly what I wanted and needed from him. He was never afraid to talk to me, to yell at me, to try to smack some sense into me (metaphysically... he'd never lay a hand on me in any way I didn't want him to). And that is gone.
Because he is moving a world away. And doesn't think long-distance relationships, of any kind, can work. Never mind that before he decided to make this move, he came to me, nearly in tears, saying he couldn't decide between being with me and living out this dream he's had forever that would take him across the globe. Of course, without hesitation, I told him to go for his dream. How could I have done anything else? But sometimes I think he interpreted that as me giving up on him. At the same time, that doesn't make sense, because he knows me better than that. Or at least he used to. Maybe now he doesn't care to.
The last few times I've spoken with him, I've gotten the distinct impression that he's ashamed of me. I have done a lot of shame-worthy things in my life. Very few, if any, of them have been in the past year that he's been treating me like he doesn't want to know me. I remember the last time we hung out before I left for Spain. It was me, nonboyfriend, gayboyfriend, P, G, and Roomie. We went dancing. Myself, nonboyfriend, gayboyfriend and roomie were all sufficiently sauced. We were, admittedly, not at our best. And there were some silly stupid decisions made, but nothing tragic. Everyone went home together and everything was fine. Nevertheless, in the morning, P lectured me about my relationship with nonboyfriend, getting all protective-older-brother-esque on me. I don't think I reacted particularly harshly.
But since then (although he knows I'm not with nonboyfriend any longer), P has seemed distant. And ashamed of me. Acting like he's gracing me, humoring me, with his presence. Like he's just barely tolerating me. I just don't know what I could have done to fall so far away from him. And with all he's forgiven me for, how could this really be the final straw? Or did I really just fall away and get forgotten? I'm not sure which is worse.
And this song has always made me think of P. He would know why.
And then I forgot to ask him. I couldn't remember the details about what, exactly, I'd needed to say to him, through my drunken haze.
And it breaks my heart to think that this might really have been the last chance I got to speak to him. And I blew it. I was too damn drunk to function properly, and then too embarrassed to admit as much when he asked me about the conversation a few days later. Our single conversation since was contrived and painfully limited in scope. So reading over his description in my blog, one I wrote over a year ago, physically hurts. I see myself writing words like "soulmate" and "unconditional love" and I realize it's entirely possible that I've lost all that. And what's maybe most interesting and at the same time most painful, is that I'm not mourning the loss of a lover. I'm mourning the loss of a friend. Because he isn't my friend anymore. He hasn't been my lover for some time, and that was something I could deal with. Especially because things never really, fundamentally, changed between us - there were only the logistics of whether or not we were sleeping together that month. He still knew me better than anyone, and I, him. He still understood me without words and knew exactly what I wanted and needed from him. He was never afraid to talk to me, to yell at me, to try to smack some sense into me (metaphysically... he'd never lay a hand on me in any way I didn't want him to). And that is gone.
Because he is moving a world away. And doesn't think long-distance relationships, of any kind, can work. Never mind that before he decided to make this move, he came to me, nearly in tears, saying he couldn't decide between being with me and living out this dream he's had forever that would take him across the globe. Of course, without hesitation, I told him to go for his dream. How could I have done anything else? But sometimes I think he interpreted that as me giving up on him. At the same time, that doesn't make sense, because he knows me better than that. Or at least he used to. Maybe now he doesn't care to.
The last few times I've spoken with him, I've gotten the distinct impression that he's ashamed of me. I have done a lot of shame-worthy things in my life. Very few, if any, of them have been in the past year that he's been treating me like he doesn't want to know me. I remember the last time we hung out before I left for Spain. It was me, nonboyfriend, gayboyfriend, P, G, and Roomie. We went dancing. Myself, nonboyfriend, gayboyfriend and roomie were all sufficiently sauced. We were, admittedly, not at our best. And there were some silly stupid decisions made, but nothing tragic. Everyone went home together and everything was fine. Nevertheless, in the morning, P lectured me about my relationship with nonboyfriend, getting all protective-older-brother-esque on me. I don't think I reacted particularly harshly.
But since then (although he knows I'm not with nonboyfriend any longer), P has seemed distant. And ashamed of me. Acting like he's gracing me, humoring me, with his presence. Like he's just barely tolerating me. I just don't know what I could have done to fall so far away from him. And with all he's forgiven me for, how could this really be the final straw? Or did I really just fall away and get forgotten? I'm not sure which is worse.
And this song has always made me think of P. He would know why.
Friday, July 25, 2008
I love this city.
It always seems to go this way, where the last few weeks I live somewhere are the most fun. I guess that's not a coincidence - maybe it's a lack of inibitions, knowing time is limited. Whatever it is, I've had basically the best weekend I've had in a year. And it's only Friday afternoon.
Wednesday, I spent the evening with my beloved Essin Em, who, unfortunately, fractured/sprained her ankle while on a date on Tuesday. Of course, it's her right ankle, so she can't drive, so I went over there to help her out, and bring movies/dinner/run errands and what not. We talked about how much women can suck and what defines a relationship and had the same kind of fabulous deep, funny, authentic conversation I've come to expect and so enjoy when with her. We watched Sex and Breakfast, which was thoroughly disappointing, and I headed out around 11:15.
While en route, a friend who lived in the neighborhood called and insisted I come over to his house. So I did. And I'm not so much at liberty to go in to details, but I had an excellent time, and heard some things I really needed to hear. I'm feeling much better about life.
On Thursday, my friend gave me a ride to the store I used to work at, where they'd asked me to pitch in. I'm beyond broke, so I agreed, and worked the regular 8 hour shift. It's by no means a hard job, and the money is decent (it better be after I've worked for them for five years), so depite a little stress and having to wear my friend's clothes to work (I didn't have a change), everything went smoothly. And P met me for lunch, and graciously paid, since I hadn't gotten the paycheck.
I love how our friendship has evolved. I've known P since we were 14, and while we've always flirted with one another (and at times it's gone far beyond flirting), I'm so incredibly comfortable in his presence. I can't even verbalize how lucky I am to have not one but TWO people in my romantic(ish) life who make me feel so fabulous. (Granted, I'm not currently sleeping with P, but I will always consider him and I semi-romantically involved. It's complicated in the best way possible.)
I got home from work about 6:30 and passed out hard until almost 9. I hadn't slept much the night before and I desperately needed the powernap. My gayboyfriend and I had made tentative plans to go out to the gay bars that night, and so I recruited my favorite roommate, and P's hetero-lifemate (who is also an old and close friend of mine and has a thing for my roommate), G. My gayboyfriend, P and G all got to my house around the same time, and after a debate about who was driving/drinking/paying for those drinks, we headed out in P's car. (P doesn't drink much, ever, but the real challenge was getting him to drive which meant he'd be closing out the bars with us. We suceeded.)
We went first to the somewhat catch-all gay bar, where drinks are reasonably priced and there's a mixed crowd. Thursday nights are usually the biggest night there, but it was actually a little slow. Roomie and her coworkers were at a gay dance club a few blocks, so after a few drinks at the bar, the boys and I walked over there to meet up with her.
Now, this specific club is interesting. It's a huge space, with two (and a half, arguably) dance floors, separated so they're basically in different rooms, and a fabulous patio. It looks run-down from the outside, but the drinks are ridiculously cheap (and it was 2-for-1 night) and they play both house/pop and country. (On separate dancefloors, obviously.) It was more crowded than I've seen it before, and with one more drink and a shot, the boys and I all got on the dancefloor. It was somewhere near midnight.
And we didn't stop dancing until the bouncer literally hussled us out of the bar. I don't usually dance at clubs because I'm self-conscious, but I saw how the boys were letting loose, and decided I could do the same. And anyways, you should SEE me move my hips. I've gotten more than a few compliments on that. (Hell yes, belly dance.) I danced with Roomie and her friends, with P, with G, and with Gayboyfriend. I stepped away to get another drink (or something) and when I came back, P was dancing, which was fabulous enough because he was being shy, but he was dancing WITH A BOY. Who had his hands all over him. And P was loving it.
Now, usually this wouldn't be a big deal, but, well, those of you who know P... it kind of was. You could tell he loved the attention, and I loved seeing him love it. I was dancing with G/no one in particular, and all of a sudden, I was sandwiched between G and a random gay boy. It was funny because even though I knew they weren't interested in me (G is straight but there's nothing there), I felt so wanted and fabulous. Because even if they didn't WANT me, they wanted to dance with me. Which was more than enough.
The rest of the night went largely like that. After a while, P's dance partner came over and started dancing with me, which was also fun. By 1:30, I was drenched in sweat and jealous of all the boys who could take thier shirts off. So I took mine off. Which totally got me attention from a few gay men around me. It was the definition of fabulous. I have never had so much fun at a club.
And here's the real clincher (although the late-night diner food was fabulous, as well)... I was dancing so hard that I didn't want to carry my purse with me. So I set it underneath Roomie's on a stool around the table we sort of had. When they turned the houselights on to try to hurry us all out, I went over to pick it up. And there was no purse. Anywhere. Roomie had hers, but mine was gone. I started freaking out. Random boys who we'd been dancing with noticed my distress and offered to help me look for it. We couldn't find it. I went to talk to the bartender in the room we'd been dancing in, praying that someone turned it in. He hadn't seen it, but told me to check security/at the front. (The club has something like 4 or 5 bars.) I asked the cowboy-hat clad bartender, and he said he hadn't seen it, but told me to wait til people cleared out and we could look for it again. I sat at the bar, trying not to freak out too much. My friends had already been hussled out, and I saw them looking at me through the door, genuine concern on thier faces. A tall, lean man with gentle facial hair and a cowboy hat walked up to me, hands resting behind his back. I thought he might ask to take my number in case they found it. I had pretty much resolved myself that my purse was gone. Credit cards, brand-new I'm-21-now ID, checkbook, phone... everything.
"Is your name Sasha?" I nodded.
"What's your pin say?" The tall cowboy asked me.
I thought he'd asked me for my pin number.
"I'm sorry, what?" I responded.
"What. Do. Your. Pins. Say?"
Suddenly I understood. I call them buttons, and I'd recently put them on the strap of my purse.
"OH! Oh my god!" I literally jumped up. "One says 'Musgrave,' and the other is black and says 'Let's get one thing straight - I'm not.'"
The cowboy pulled my purse out from behind his back. I squealed and hugged him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're AMAZING!"
The bear standing next to him asked to see my Musgrave pin and was relieved to see it was an anti-Musgrave button. (She's a Senator who's sponsored the Federal Amendment to ban gay marriage.) He made a joke about thinking I was in the wrong place. I laughed and hugged him too. My cowboy and the bear escorted me out, and the Roomie, as soon as I came out, pruse in hand, thanked them agian and handed them a $20.
I was just utterly amazed, because nowhere else would that have happened. In most clubs, in any city here in the states or I imagine in the world, my purse would have been history. Instead, someone picked it up, turned it in, and then held it safely and made sure I was who I said I was before they gave it back. That's just incredible to me. And one more reason why I love this community. We're here for each other. It's primarily a men's club, but I not only had the best time I've ever had, they took fabulous care of me. Where else could I find something like that?
I LOVE this city. And it's things like this that make me think this is really where I belong.
Wednesday, I spent the evening with my beloved Essin Em, who, unfortunately, fractured/sprained her ankle while on a date on Tuesday. Of course, it's her right ankle, so she can't drive, so I went over there to help her out, and bring movies/dinner/run errands and what not. We talked about how much women can suck and what defines a relationship and had the same kind of fabulous deep, funny, authentic conversation I've come to expect and so enjoy when with her. We watched Sex and Breakfast, which was thoroughly disappointing, and I headed out around 11:15.
While en route, a friend who lived in the neighborhood called and insisted I come over to his house. So I did. And I'm not so much at liberty to go in to details, but I had an excellent time, and heard some things I really needed to hear. I'm feeling much better about life.
On Thursday, my friend gave me a ride to the store I used to work at, where they'd asked me to pitch in. I'm beyond broke, so I agreed, and worked the regular 8 hour shift. It's by no means a hard job, and the money is decent (it better be after I've worked for them for five years), so depite a little stress and having to wear my friend's clothes to work (I didn't have a change), everything went smoothly. And P met me for lunch, and graciously paid, since I hadn't gotten the paycheck.
I love how our friendship has evolved. I've known P since we were 14, and while we've always flirted with one another (and at times it's gone far beyond flirting), I'm so incredibly comfortable in his presence. I can't even verbalize how lucky I am to have not one but TWO people in my romantic(ish) life who make me feel so fabulous. (Granted, I'm not currently sleeping with P, but I will always consider him and I semi-romantically involved. It's complicated in the best way possible.)
I got home from work about 6:30 and passed out hard until almost 9. I hadn't slept much the night before and I desperately needed the powernap. My gayboyfriend and I had made tentative plans to go out to the gay bars that night, and so I recruited my favorite roommate, and P's hetero-lifemate (who is also an old and close friend of mine and has a thing for my roommate), G. My gayboyfriend, P and G all got to my house around the same time, and after a debate about who was driving/drinking/paying for those drinks, we headed out in P's car. (P doesn't drink much, ever, but the real challenge was getting him to drive which meant he'd be closing out the bars with us. We suceeded.)
We went first to the somewhat catch-all gay bar, where drinks are reasonably priced and there's a mixed crowd. Thursday nights are usually the biggest night there, but it was actually a little slow. Roomie and her coworkers were at a gay dance club a few blocks, so after a few drinks at the bar, the boys and I walked over there to meet up with her.
Now, this specific club is interesting. It's a huge space, with two (and a half, arguably) dance floors, separated so they're basically in different rooms, and a fabulous patio. It looks run-down from the outside, but the drinks are ridiculously cheap (and it was 2-for-1 night) and they play both house/pop and country. (On separate dancefloors, obviously.) It was more crowded than I've seen it before, and with one more drink and a shot, the boys and I all got on the dancefloor. It was somewhere near midnight.
And we didn't stop dancing until the bouncer literally hussled us out of the bar. I don't usually dance at clubs because I'm self-conscious, but I saw how the boys were letting loose, and decided I could do the same. And anyways, you should SEE me move my hips. I've gotten more than a few compliments on that. (Hell yes, belly dance.) I danced with Roomie and her friends, with P, with G, and with Gayboyfriend. I stepped away to get another drink (or something) and when I came back, P was dancing, which was fabulous enough because he was being shy, but he was dancing WITH A BOY. Who had his hands all over him. And P was loving it.
Now, usually this wouldn't be a big deal, but, well, those of you who know P... it kind of was. You could tell he loved the attention, and I loved seeing him love it. I was dancing with G/no one in particular, and all of a sudden, I was sandwiched between G and a random gay boy. It was funny because even though I knew they weren't interested in me (G is straight but there's nothing there), I felt so wanted and fabulous. Because even if they didn't WANT me, they wanted to dance with me. Which was more than enough.
The rest of the night went largely like that. After a while, P's dance partner came over and started dancing with me, which was also fun. By 1:30, I was drenched in sweat and jealous of all the boys who could take thier shirts off. So I took mine off. Which totally got me attention from a few gay men around me. It was the definition of fabulous. I have never had so much fun at a club.
And here's the real clincher (although the late-night diner food was fabulous, as well)... I was dancing so hard that I didn't want to carry my purse with me. So I set it underneath Roomie's on a stool around the table we sort of had. When they turned the houselights on to try to hurry us all out, I went over to pick it up. And there was no purse. Anywhere. Roomie had hers, but mine was gone. I started freaking out. Random boys who we'd been dancing with noticed my distress and offered to help me look for it. We couldn't find it. I went to talk to the bartender in the room we'd been dancing in, praying that someone turned it in. He hadn't seen it, but told me to check security/at the front. (The club has something like 4 or 5 bars.) I asked the cowboy-hat clad bartender, and he said he hadn't seen it, but told me to wait til people cleared out and we could look for it again. I sat at the bar, trying not to freak out too much. My friends had already been hussled out, and I saw them looking at me through the door, genuine concern on thier faces. A tall, lean man with gentle facial hair and a cowboy hat walked up to me, hands resting behind his back. I thought he might ask to take my number in case they found it. I had pretty much resolved myself that my purse was gone. Credit cards, brand-new I'm-21-now ID, checkbook, phone... everything.
"Is your name Sasha?" I nodded.
"What's your pin say?" The tall cowboy asked me.
I thought he'd asked me for my pin number.
"I'm sorry, what?" I responded.
"What. Do. Your. Pins. Say?"
Suddenly I understood. I call them buttons, and I'd recently put them on the strap of my purse.
"OH! Oh my god!" I literally jumped up. "One says 'Musgrave,' and the other is black and says 'Let's get one thing straight - I'm not.'"
The cowboy pulled my purse out from behind his back. I squealed and hugged him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you! You're AMAZING!"
The bear standing next to him asked to see my Musgrave pin and was relieved to see it was an anti-Musgrave button. (She's a Senator who's sponsored the Federal Amendment to ban gay marriage.) He made a joke about thinking I was in the wrong place. I laughed and hugged him too. My cowboy and the bear escorted me out, and the Roomie, as soon as I came out, pruse in hand, thanked them agian and handed them a $20.
I was just utterly amazed, because nowhere else would that have happened. In most clubs, in any city here in the states or I imagine in the world, my purse would have been history. Instead, someone picked it up, turned it in, and then held it safely and made sure I was who I said I was before they gave it back. That's just incredible to me. And one more reason why I love this community. We're here for each other. It's primarily a men's club, but I not only had the best time I've ever had, they took fabulous care of me. Where else could I find something like that?
I LOVE this city. And it's things like this that make me think this is really where I belong.
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