I wasn’t always this way

Dear C,
You had me head over heels. I’ll never forget those summer nights on your parents’ front porch. We learned so much. Sometimes I can almost taste your lips. I miss that innocence. I know we were young. Maybe if we had been a little older. You broke my heart. I’m sorry I held on for so long. I didn’t know what else to do. I’ll always smile whenever I think of you.

Dear C2,
I think your Mom liked me more than you did. That’s usually not a great sign. Thanks for introducing me to Skyline, the local lookout point. It was all very Wally Cleaver-ish, until the police showed up. Once you went off to college, I just never quite fit into your world, with the sorority thing and all.

Dear J,
You were messed up. I thought I could fix you. I liked the idea that I could rescue you. I tried. I couldn’t. There were a lot of lessons learned the hard way. Lessons I didn’t plan to learn again. But any regrets I have are on me, because of things I let happen.

Dear L,
What more can I say? I’ve poured out my heart and written pages and pages about you. Part of me still refuses to admit you weren’t my one. I know it’s pathetic and I’m not proud of it. I became an arrogant jerk towards the end, not realizing it was you who had given me my confidence. My heart will always ache for losing you, but more than that, for hurting you. You will always have a friend here. Thank you for the best days of my life.

Dear M,
We had chemistry, huh? It was good to be in love again. You were never anything but wonderful. Thank you for sharing two years of your life with me. Whatever happened between us was only my fault. It was the start of a disturbing trend where I would get to a certain point and couldn’t go any further. I’m sorry for that. The distance wasn’t easy. You proved you would do anything for love, and I’m so glad you found it. I don’t know what was wrong with me.

Dear J2,
There was always something comfortable about us, about being at your place. Baseball will always remind me of you. The fact is, I could never let myself completely go and I’m sorry. Anything else I could say wouldn’t really matter. By the time you came along, I had taught myself to turn my heart off like a switch. But sometimes I think you could, too. You breaking a date by text message was just my excuse, my way out.

“Could you sympathize with my needs? I know you think I need a lot. Started out clean, but I’m jaded. Just phonin’ it in…”

Friends don’t let friends…

Several months ago I was at dinner with some friends when one asked if I was still talking to a particular ex-girlfriend. I informed her that I was not, and she replied with “That’s probably a good thing.”

I was aghast. How could everyone not be completely enamored with any female I might choose to date?

Hard as it was to believe, apparently it was true. Further conversation revealed a couple of other friends held a not-so-favorable opinion of this girl, as well. It was a real eye-opener for me. Like a cool, fresh bar of Coast in a morning shower.

I asked my friend why she had never said anything about this before. She responded that I never seemed all that serious about the relationship and she figured it would pass. It did.

But what if it hadn’t? Would she have said anything? Would I have listened?

This is a not uncommon predicament in life. As long as we are single or have friends who are single, there will be situations like this. More times than not, I’ve found myself on the opposite side of the fence, wondering if I should say something to a friend whose significant other, well, had significant issues.

Inevitably, I wind up asking myself the same questions. What do I say? Do I say anything? How long should I wait before saying it? Is it really any of my business? Should I keep my mouth shut and just hope for the best? And even if I do say something, will it do any good?

Well, my friends, allow me to answer all of the above questions for you with one simple sentence: I have no idea.

At this point in my life, I tend to stay out of other people’s business. I figure relationships are difficult enough without outside interference. And undoubtedly friendships have been damaged, some completely destroyed, because one friend decided to say something.

On the other hand, love is blind. And I would venture to say that lust is, too. As in my situation, the person in the relationship is usually the last one to see the signs that are so obvious to everyone else.

Do we not owe it to our friends to warn them if we think they are heading down a road strewn with certain pitfalls and probable STD’s? After all, certainly there have been times in our dating history when most of us could have used a stiff smack to the forehead and someone questioning, “What are you thinking?!”

Good friends know us better than most anyone. They don’t usually have ulterior motives. So if a good friend does voice an opinion, listen. Or don’t. But don’t let it ruin the friendship. More times than not, friends will be around long after the non-platonic relationship is gone.

And if several friends you’ve known for five, ten years or longer have a problem with someone you’re dating, that should probably send up a few red flags. Then again, looking thru rose-colored glasses, red flags appear to be white.

There used to be a popular ad campaign which used the slogan, “Friends don’t let friends drive drunk.” But what about relationships? How far does a friend’s responsibility go when it comes to dating under the influence?

“What would Brian Boitano do if he were here right now? He’d make a plan and follow through. That’s what Brian Boitano’d do…”

Fighting myself

The silent stillness of the night is broken by the piercing sound of the telephone. I know who it is, but check the caller ID anyway. Then I put the pillow over my head to lessen the noise until the machine picks up. I wonder how many times she’ll call.

This is it. This is how I get out.

There are always a few little differences. But they’re mostly the same. She’ll call a few times. I won’t answer. Then finally, I will.

I won’t say much. Just something about how I don’t think this is working out. I can always come up with reasons why. She was just saying the other night how I give her mixed signals and how I’m never there when she needs someone to talk to.

I listen. Or pretend to, anyway. To her incessant ramblings about nothing, night after night. And now she wants to nag and complain about our relationship? Well, fine. Let her see how she likes arguing with herself.

Maybe she’ll cry. Maybe she won’t. I’ll probably wonder if I’m making a mistake. But I’d rather wonder if I left too early than regret hanging on too long.

The phone rings again. But for some reason, this time I answer. I tell her I love her and that I’m sorry.

It’s a small step. And a constant battle.

I haven’t always been this way. But someone hurt me a long time ago.

“The end is coming. She don’t even feel it. It’s a strange sensation. I’m almost happy…”