" The right one slipped away"
I wrote that conversation I had with Joseph the other day, and now I can't get him out of my cranium, and well, knowing me, maybe I don't want to get him out of my head. Maybe I'm more comfortable with him there. At least it beats being lonely.
I wonder why we said those things to each other. I wonder why I said those things back then: " Do you really need a name?", " Never lose sight of me?"
Even now it makes me blush to think I said such cheesey lines to him. On paper, it's even cheesier.
I forget to mention that at the time we were standing together on a bridge over a koi pond in the middle of the night. I forget to mention we had just finished watching the water works at Disney Land with some friends and were heading for dinner. I forget to mention that when our shoulders touched, I felt really, really, really heavy, as if I was standing in a pool of water up to my armpits.
But, well, last night I watched an old episode of Ally Mcbeal, the episode during Mark Henderson's case, you know, the man that stole into his would-be date's house in the middle of the night and, well, tickled her foot? That one. Ally's closing, you know, when she said that usually you hear things like, The right one will come along ,and she says, Well, well, who made that up anyway? You ask your friends and they'll tell you, The right one slipped away. Well, those lines really struck a chord with me.
Standing alone with Joseph on that bridge, with our hands shoved deep into our pockets and us blowing frost in the night air like smoke dragons, I could have done something - anything! - but instead I apologized, and then whipped around and ran off to join our group of friends.
After that I stopped answering his calls. We used to go by code names: Polaris (me), and Orange (him), but in the end, the only one who knew anything about anybody was me.
I mean, you could tell a guy your life story, take him up to your apartment, marry the guy!, but all that wouldn't matter in the end when you don't even trust him enough to give him your name.
And, you know, what's sad is, if I had the chance to replay my life, and sneak in and edit it according to my whim, chances are I'd probably do the same thing all over again. I was letting the right one just ... slip away out of my hands. And I did it on purpose too.
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