The Worst is Over

Well, it’s happened. I’ve seen Fred again.

            Charlie and Marie came by our apartment last night, because the two of them were going to get dinner with Hannah and Lucy, and I was still working in the living room, since I got a little behind last Thursday and hadn’t quite caught up yet.

            Then there was a knock at our door, Lucy rushed to open it, and he walked in. And, as I suspected I would, I acted like an idiot. At the sight of him, I stood up like this was the nineteenth century and I was about to curtsy to him (thankfully I wasn’t that stupid). As Fred greeted the group waiting for him, I had a thousand feelings going through me. My nerves were on edge being around him, just like I always felt around him eight years ago. But the years had changed him—the pictures on Facebook did no justice to seeing him there, somehow even better-looking than when I knew him. I felt so flushed and queasy for a moment I thought I might have caught whatever my nephew had. And, I felt a bit deer-in-the-headlights, completely startled and unprepared. I just stood there, because I didn’t know what else to do.

            Charlie began to introduce me, but Fred cut him off. He said that I’d known his brother in college and had met me a few times before. This was new information to the rest of them. Marie, Hannah, and Lucy looked at me, shocked that I hadn’t remembered him before and mentioned that we had known each other.

            So I said, “Yes, I remember you now.”

            Then Fred said to everyone else, “So, should we go?”

            The group agreed and left.

            And it was over. I’ve seen Fred again, and so the worst is over. We’ve been in the same room, we’ve talked (kind of), and that is finished.

            Now that it’s over, seeing him again won’t be as bad. In fact, I say there’s no point in feeling what I felt at seeing him for the first time anymore. It’s been eight years. That’s almost a third of our lives. What happened has distance and like they say, time heals all wounds. 

            And now I’m resorting to clichés. But if it’s a cliché it has to be true, right?

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Saved by the Nephew

Last week I left you with the anticipation of me seeing Fred again, but…let’s just start at the beginning.

I was so distracted I hardly got any work done during the day on Thursday, as you can probably imagine. It didn’t help when Hannah came back from the city with two new outfits and began asking for advice about which one to wear that night. While she debated between the little black dress and red heels or a flirty pink dress, I couldn’t help but remember how he had said he liked me in bright colors. Well, he told me that when I was wearing a fluorescent green shirt I used as pajamas, so maybe it wasn’t the best example of his tastes, but I suggested the pink dress anyway.

            Then Lucy got home and began parading in her different wardrobe choices, but thankfully with Hannah there she could take over the fashion advice. It almost killed me, trying to imagine what Fred would be attracted to on another girl, but I couldn’t not help them. Hopefully the fact that Hannah and Lucy have each other will make things easier if anything happens between one of them and Fred. Romantic advice would be a whole different beast I don’t think I could conquer.

            Then, I was saved. We had twenty minutes until drinks, but then Marie called me in a panic about my nephew. He had a fever and just before threw up his dinner. I went over there to discover Marie in a fit because she couldn’t leave her son with the teenage babysitter in his condition, and Charlie was too busy at work to pick up his cell phone, meaning he would go with their earlier plan of meeting up at his parents’ house after drinks, in time for dinner. Marie cried about how she never gets a break from taking care of her son, and she just wanted to spend one night with some adults, especially one as successful as Fred, who she just had a feeling might be her brother-in-law someday (and no, she didn’t mean because of me).

            And it was too tempting. To not see Fred? To delay that awkwardness and pain? I volunteered to stay with my nephew. So while Marie and Charlie and Hannah and Lucy met Fred, I gave Little Charlie a bath, some medicine, and we watched The Lion King before putting him to bed. 

            I didn’t see Fred, but over the past few days, everyone can’t stop talking about their opinion of him, which had its own brand of discomfort and pain. Marie keeps on saying how much hotter and richer he is than Henrietta’s violinist. Charlie talks more about how brilliant he seemed, his ingenious ideas and how considerate he was to everyone there at the dinner. Other than Marie’s favoritism as to who she wanted to see Fred date, their comments about him are a few minutes of longing for him more than anything. But Lucy’s yammering about how Fred’s rags-to-riches story shows how dedicated and passionate he is, and Hannah’s commenting on Fred’s good looks as well as his gentlemanly behavior, hurts more than anything else. I’ve always known Fred would be an amazing catch for someone, and part of me is surprised he isn’t married, but I don’t want to watch it happen. But with Lucy and Hannah interested in him, I might see feelings develop, at least on their ends.

            Whether or not I see Fred again (which I likely will), I know I’m going to get my ear talked off about him, which will mean more silenced suffering and just this blog to honestly talk about how it’s killing me to be watching everyone fall in love with him when before I didn’t get a scrap of support to be with him. I was the only one to see how wonderful he was before his big internet success, and I’m going to be at the bottom of this whole mess because I wanted him to have this big internet success. No one will know, because despite it all, my frustration and despair, I can’t make the people I care about unhappy.

After all, there’s a reason Hannah and Lucy talk to me about him, rather than to each other. They both like him, and they know that the other likes him as well. They aren’t petty people, they won’t cat fight over him, but it does make it awkward to talk about with each other. I’m their only option to discuss Fred without making things competitive or hurtful.

            I wonder what they would do if they knew.

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My Race

I feel like lately I’ve been pretty negative and drama-filled. I’m really sorry about that, it must seem like all I do is complain. So I thought instead, for today, I’d tell you guys about something I’m really excited about instead—I’m participating in a race.

Okay, it isn’t going to be that long, but it’s the first one I’m participating in, so it’s big to me. The race is a short, simple one, only a 5k, however considering before July I never really did any regular exercise, I’d say this is a pretty significant change for me. I’ve been getting up at 5 every morning (fine, almost every morning) for the past three months to train for it.

The reason I decided to do this race is because it’s to raise money for the Susan G. Komen Breast Cancer Foundation. I’d been wanting to do something for my mom, something meaningful other than writing a check, and so when I saw this race, I signed up for it. I still have a few weeks of training, but I’m feeling good about it. I’ve gone from complete pain and confusion as to why anybody runs willingly, to less pain and understanding why some people like to run. I’m really hoping one day to do the 3-day walk for the cure, but we’ll see how I feel after just this one race.

Part of participating in the race was collecting donations, and considering the neighborhood I’m from and the people I work with, it was not hard at all to raise a bit of money for the race. But, if you have some spare money you would like to donate, then you can go here to donate to the Susan G. Komen foundation, since October is breast cancer awareness month.

So see? I still do have happy news.

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The Countdown

It hasn’t even been a week and I already know when I’ll be seeing Fred for the first time. In a way, I’m glad, because I’ll be prepared for it, but at the same time, I want to avoid it for as long as I can.

            Charlie’s parents, who live down the street from Adam and Carrie, found out about Fred moving in and invited the three of them to dinner. While it hasn’t been said out rightly, this dinner is a vehicle for matchmaking. When Hannah and Lucy’s mom came over to tell them about it, she made the dinner sound like it was for them to meet Fred, instead of the new tenants in general. And why wouldn’t he be the main focus? He’s rich and young and single and (according to their mom) handsome. Hannah’s violinist left on a tour for a show last week and won’t be back for another month, and Lucy hasn’t met anyone she’s interested in pursuing a relationship with. Their mom invited me, Charlie, and Marie as well, but I get the feeling she’s trying to keep this casual and her plan less obvious, which is why we were invited along.

            I caught Lucy googling him last night. At least, she had brought up his Facebook profile picture and was looking it. Probably checking to make sure her mom’s judgment was right on. Obviously I’m not exactly impartial, but if anything, in the past eight years he’s only become even more handsome. Maybe because he doesn’t have a military haircut anymore.

            So. Thursday night. Thursday night I will see him again. And there’s the question of what he’s said about us. Will he say he already knows me? Should I say something? What if he has been telling people about our past and I look like an idiot for not bringing him up? And then, we will have dinner together. With other people, but, you know, in the same company and all of that.

            It doesn’t seem real that he’s coming back. That I’m going to see him. And that Hannah and Lucy will be turning on their best flirting when it comes to him. And why wouldn’t he flirt, too? He’s single, and they’re great people, very pretty and vivacious and young. He could do a lot worse, and so could they.

            And I have three days to prepare for this.

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Okay, I'm freaking out

I’ve hardly gotten any work done because Fred’s coming to stay with Adam and Carrie today. And while I know I might not even see him, this is really just a small chance. I don’t exactly live in a huge town. Between what there is to do for fun around here, the fact that my old neighbors are his new neighbors, and the limited options of services for errands, there’s a high probability I’ll run into him at some point. And if that happens, what am I supposed to do? I mean, I broke his heart. I broke my own in the process, but he has every right to be angry with me. I didn’t exactly choose the best time to break it off, and I didn’t talk to him about it beforehand, I just made the decision by myself.

            Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret the decision. I’d make it again, although if I could go back, I would have talked to him about it sooner. But if we had gotten married, he would have been living with me while I was in law school after his deployment, and then he never would have met his two partners who helped him develop his idea. He might not have ever succeeded.

            We’d be together, though. And that’s all that mattered to him. I don’t know if he can see it my way, even now, but in the end, I think it was best for him.

            Still, this doesn’t really help me with the question of what to do when I see him. Run away? Avoid eye contact? Give a nod of recognition and move on? How is one supposed to respond to someone who once loved you and now hates you?

            Maybe I can still move. Hannah and Lucy can have the apartment, I’ll just join Dad and Eliza and the secretary up north and avoid this whole fiasco. Marie doesn’t need me that much. Okay, my nephew might need me, but he has other aunts living next to him, plus his grandparents. 

            But if I’m being honest, I used to imagine meeting him again. By some serendipity we’d cross each other’s path, and he’d no longer be mad at me. He’d understand and want to grab coffee to catch up, and then it would work out like The Notebook. Minus the getting Alzheimer’s part. 

            It was lovely in my imagination, but this is reality. Fred holds grudges. He hates people who can’t stand their ground and cave into pressure, who don’t know their own mind. It’s unlikely he’s forgiven me. 

            For right now, all I can think is that I’ll just need to survive this and keep my head down.

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