Dinner with Chelsea

Tomorrow, Chelsea and I are going out for sushi. I’m looking forward to the meal, and to seeing her again. It’s been a long, long time since we’ve hung out, and that’s been primarily my fault. I’ve been avoiding her, and isolating myself a great deal. I hope the past few days are an indication that I’m more comfortable with things between us, and that I’m stronger than I was some four months ago.

The last time we hung out was a month? Two months ago? Jebus. A long while. We had dinner at Hi Ricky’s (one of our favorite restaurants), and it was great, as always. But that time… I spent almost the entire dinner staring at her neck, wondering if she had a hickey.

That’s not the healthiest thing in the world to be doing. So, as a result, I decided that I needed more time on my own. I was still acting possessive, and I didn’t feel that my presence around her was helping her… and didn’t think her presence was very good for me.

So fast forward to now. Chelsea’s been incredibly patient about my distance, and hasn’t pushed me in any way. Hopefully, we’ll have a good talk tomorrow, and get lots of things off each others’ chests. I’m wary about telling her of this blog, but am thinking I will. It only seems fair. I’m concerned she’ll be upset, but I don’t think I’ve been that vindictive in any of my entries. If anything, I’ve been a mopey bastard. But I hope she doesn’t take offense.

I guess a big part of me wants her to see this, not in a "see what you’ve done to me" way. But in a "Look. This is what I’ve been trying to work through. But I think I’m better now, and would like to get to know you again as a friend" kind of way.

Flashback. In undergrad, at Indiana University, I lived with four other great guys. After the dorms (where we happened to room around each other), we lived in a house for four years. In that time, many girls came and went. Girlfriends who would be practically roommates would, after a breakup, disappear without a trace. No mention, not talk, no nothing. Being guys, we never discussed these absences (unless it was brought up first).

As a guy, I never felt it my place to say "Hey. Remember Janice? She was really cool. What’s she doing now?" It didn’t seem appropriate. Because a relationship ended for one of my roommates, the topic (and the girl) became off-limits to the rest of us. Only when an ex-girlfriend was brought up in conversation was it then deemed "acceptable" that the rest of us speak about it.

Too often, when a breakup occurred… the ex-girlfriend disappeared utterly, with no mention of her name ever again. It was as if she never existed, and was never an integral part of our lives. Over the years, I’ve realized why this happened. It’s so much easier! Absolute and utter absence/silence is easier. Ignoring and denying is easier. Always.

I’ve tried to be more mature about my breakups. When a relationship ends, it’s hard to remember that there was something you admired and respected in the other person, before all the romance and physicality began. That admiration and respect created the groundwork for friendship, and that should survive beyond any kind of romance. Almost eveyone I’ve ever been involved with has started as a friend. And so maintaining friendship after the fact has a great deal of importance to me.

Not to say I’m always successful. But it’s important to me.

A 3 year relationship ended some time ago, with a lovely girl named Melinda. We were both not right for each other, but it took us a long time to realize that. Longer for me, actually. Almost a year after things ended, I was able to really see her again, to talk to her again, and to be around her once more. Today, she’s living with a great guy named Christian, and when I see them together…. thee’s no anger or hatred. There’s some jealousy, which is expected. But when I see them together, they just make so much more sense than she and I ever did. Actually – I’m happy for them, truly and really.

I’ve hoped for something similar with Chelsea. But it’s been really, really difficult. Not from anything she did- but for me just processing and accepting everything. With each relationship that I go through, I keep thinking "Finally! This one is what’s been missing." To understand that I’m wrong yet again, takes some time to fully adjust to.

Love is work. It’s a nice line, and something I’ve come to subscribe to. Love is fantastic, and dreamlike, and heaven, and all things good and sweet and light and natural. But it’s also a lot of work, a lot of dedication, a lot of faith. A lot of work. Love happens gradually, but it takes persistence to maintain it.

For as much of a bitter recluse as I’ve been, it’s a small miracle that Chelsea is still talking to me. Regardless of what happens tomorrow, I need to count myself lucky that she’s still willing to meet with me, to talk with me, and to work with me to determine how our friendship will progress. At times, I still feel uncomfortable and sad and worried… but that’s the trick, isn’t it? To keep trying, and to keep at it, until things are no longer uncomfortable or sad or worrisome?