Monday, September 9, 2013

Time Warp


What the fuck was that?! I found myself blindsided. Sitting there wondering what kind of a wet fish of a time warp I'd gotten slapped in the head with. And why.

A week prior I’d been asked by a guy who I used to date ravaged my heart if I would go to a concert with him. “I have an extra ticket for this show I forgot I bought tickets to and the person I was going to go with can’t go and if you want to go and [blah blah blah].”

“Oh, I would if I could, but I can’t. I’ll be out of town running a half marathon,” I responded, until I realized that we would be back by early evening and the following day was Labor day so hey! no work. I chatted back a bit later,“Well I can go, but is this a free thing or a non-free thing?”

“It’s free if it has to be, I guess,” he said. With all of my preparation for Australia (did I mention I'm going to Australia next week?!), sinking $40 on some concert I had no intention of going to in the first place was not on the top of my list - although I do like the band. I offered to be his back-up if he wanted to try to find someone who could pay; if he couldn't, I’d go. Instead he appeared to ignore that statement and just responded, “Sweet.”

I guess I was going to a concert then.

When I told my work friend slash male/dating guru about this, his response was that this guy was just trying to sleep with me. “Don’t be silly,” I said “this is the guy I had to nearly beg to sleep with me, remember?” (And this, kids, is why I don't recommend year-long celibacy promises to oneself.)

“Oh yea. Well, maybe you’re right,” he conceded.

Since concert crowds and I have a rough history at this venue, I had my past come over for drink before the show. When he arrived I was immediately taken aback by how deep his voice was - I had forgotten - and then went off to make him a drink. Mid-drinks, we talked about stories that happened nearly two years ago with each other and my roommate. This was somehow not awkward at all, which was surprising given our chat conversations over the past 18 months were sporadic at best and based mostly on music and fashion. In fact, recounting our sordid tales was not only not awkward, it amusing; endearing. After three drinks and eight tales, we left.

When we got to the venue, the band was already on and (thanks to no dinner and fatigue) I was already drunk. And thus, I unfortunately don’t remember the show. I do, however, recall the guy I accidentally dated (AD) coming up to me. I had no idea he’d be there, so I was surprised when he walked up, talked for a bit and then suggested we all go out to the bars after the show. (Fireball thinks this is how it happened.)

So after the concert, we headed out. The following day I was told by my ticket provider that the accidental dater was treating him like a threat or competition. “But that’s okay,” he would say to me, mid-afternoon, still lying in bed from the night before, “because I won.”

Well that was unexpected.

Had it not been for Fireball, I might have seen how the whole thing transpired; how I ended up on the wrong side of my bed with him…again. Instead, my mind simply chose to remember that: 1. I was drinking water at the bar, 2. AD was wearing a purple plaid shirt, and 3. I got out of a cab in the rain when my time warp was at the ATM and I’d forgotten what was going on and convinced him we could walk home in the rain, only we couldn't and had to hail yet another cab to get back to my place. (He and I don’t have the best history with cabs, it seems.) After that, it was just a bit of here and there and 2am mac’n’cheese and holy shit! when did he become such a good kisser?! 

“Did you kiss in the morning,” asked ER - one of the relevant few to tell this whole story to - when I said the guy had gone from bottom of the list to top three. “Maybe you were just drunk."

"Yes; for hours." We spent the waking, snogging, napping, showering, lunching day together. All of which I thought nothing of besides: He’s much funnier than I remember him. It was comfortable like a begone friend; like that person from high school who you haven’t talked to in years, but when you see each other again, it's as if no time has passed. Only it had – and he was different and I was different and we were better for it. What I had let go of was for a purpose and look at the wonderful people we have become independent from one another. And look at the people we are together; one person’s giggle a stepping stone to the other’s a stepping stone to five minutes of laughing together over absolutely nothing.

Over time, I had grown to assume that the connection I thought we had had was simply because of the circumstances back then, but this 20 hour window appeared to prove otherwise. What I had excused as circumstance was perhaps a connection that's always been there - and it didn’t fade with time. It wasn’t really romantic; I didn’t get butterflies in my stomach. It was comfortable; happy. I wasn’t really thinking about any of it or how it was potentially weird. I just enjoyed the moment; had fun again. And then he left.

And then I switched to outright confused: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?

A hook-up I get, but spending the day together had me turning around in little WTF circles and the question compounded when ER (who's actually the 'three' friend in it) requested the entry for a memory refresh upon telling him the tale. In retrieving it, I read it - and remembered: I had forgotten about my hope. And how much that shit had hurt. But that story's bookmark was discarded last year when hope abandoned and now we’re - wait ...where the fuck are we? And what the fuck was that?! Did that mean something? Did it mean nothing? Did he just become another out-of-owner? ...Did he not?

If he did, it's a cruel joke: See this? Remember this? Connections; (almost) relationships? You don't have it! That’s like the worst gumdrop ever. TOURIST SEASON IS OVER. (You hear me, Universe?)

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