I Love You, Too

Thursday I want over to Lynn’s apartment. We went for dinner at a non-descript Los Gatos restaurant. The conversation (and I won’t bore you with it) was mostly me trying to figure out what I had done wrong, and trying to get her to not sleep with (OK, let’s be graphic – not to fuck) Tim.

My father is a lawyer, and some of his questioning techniques rubbed off on me, also my logical side always butts in. So, I took approaches like this:

“Let me ask you a question.”

“OK” she replied

“Your friend Cat. Let’s say that she was sleeping with Tim.”

“She’s living with Mike.”

“OK, but lets say she was single and was sleeping with Tim. And then you found Tim and found you really really lusted him.”

“Alright”

“Would you sleep with him?”

“No. Ewww.”

“Ok, why not?”

“Isn’t obvious?”

“Well, humor me. Why not?”

“It would hurt her. It would be wrong.”

“So, do you consider me to be a good friend?”

“Yes.”

“As good a friend as Cat?”

“Well, I’ve never slept with Cat” she grinned at me “but as least as good as.”

“So,” I said springing my obvious trap – ergo ipso facto – “If you can curb your lust for your friendship with Cat, why not curb it to save me the same pain.”

“Oh Rich. That is soooo completely different.”

“No way”

“Yes, way! OK here’s the thing. If you were sleeping with Tim, I’d skip him and do someone else – to save your feelings. But you and me are sleeping together, that changes everything. If you want to start sleeping with Tim, then I will consider this.”

Alright, my argument is in tatters, but we have been drinking so I push on. “I want to start sleeping with Tim” I announce – a bit too loudly for the restaurant. We start to get some of the looks that Maurizio and I get when we talk too loud.

“Well, what I meant was if you do sleep with Tim. And I can tell you now you are not his type – you don’t have a pussy. It’s not gonna work. You seduce Tim and we can talk.”

“I should just get together with Tim and we can work this out.”

“You do that and I’ll dump you both.”

“And then where will you be?”

“Rich, there was going to be someone there to break in the bed with me. If it wasn’t you it would have been Tim. If not him then someone else.”

Wow, it must be wonderful to be so confident in your sexuality, knowing that you can get someone anytime. I wait years between women. But I can see how she could walk into a bar tonight and know that she would be going home with someone (and not at closing time). Maurizio is the same way. I’m envious.

“I still don’t get why it’s OK to hurt me.”

“Rich, it’s not OK to hurt you, and I really mean that. But I sleep with someone because it makes me happy. Not because it makes them happy. I hope it does make them happy, but that’s not the point. I can’t worry about everyone else’s happiness – I’d go crazy. You can’t either. And because I slept with Jim last month, it doesn’t give him any right to sleep with me today. Just because I slept with you last week, doesn’t give you the right to sleep with me today. And you don’t get to decide if I can or can’t sleep with someone else. We might be in that kind of relationship one day, but we’re not in that kind of relationship today. And you can sleep with me. I want you to. It would make me happy. But it won’t be exclusive – and if you can’t handle that, I get it. I really do. I didn’t think you could.”

We went back to her place and sat in the Jacuzzi for a while, and finally went back inside. I was having no luck. I sucked down a big gulp of scotch. We were sitting on her bed after taking a shower. I finally gave up. I cannot do this – I cannot share her. It just won’t work. Neither of us would be happy.

I though about it so much. It plays over and over again in my head. It’s not that she slept with him. Lynn has slept with a lot of guys. I know that. I can handle that. And it’s not that she is going to keep sleeping with him. Although, that is, frankly, annoying. Part of it is that I am losing her. She means so much to me. It really hurts to lose her. But most of all, it is that she can so easily discard me. That she can let me go without a fight. Without a tear. Without look back. Without a regret. That’s what hurts so damn much.

“Where did I read the signs wrong? I felt like you loved me. I always though that we would end up together.”

“Me too” she said.

“I mean, everything you did, everything you said, it was so wonderful. You made me feel loved. Now it seems like you were just holding onto me until something better came along. You’re acting like such a big jerk.” I could see it in her eyes, that had made an impact.

“Rich, I’m not being a jerk. You’re deciding this. This is your decision. I told you. I’m not making you leave.” She said, with real anger.

“No, you’re being a Jerk. You led me on, and as soon as you find someone hotter you drop me like a sack of potatoes.”

“Rich,” her chin was wrinkling, “I’m turning 30 in a couple of months.”

Oh, my god, that’s what this is about. A mid-life crisis – fear of getting old, so you need to grab the best sex you can? So you can hose your friends and screw everything you have?

“Rich, look at my life. I ended up with an old, fat, poor, balding guy who likes country music! And then he started hitting me. You make decisions everyday and you think you’re making the right ones. And that the end of it you end up in a place that just sucks.” She was yelling at me. “You know,” she went on quietly, “when you are a kid and you’re playing monopoly, and all the rolls are going against you? You just want to scream and the frustration builds up – and you flip the board over? I’m flipping the board over. Life is too damn short. It’s slipping away. And if I don’t grab it for all it’s worth I’ll never forgive myself.”

Flipping out at turning 30? 40, OK, but 30? “I turned thirty, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re a man. Men age better. You have years in front of you. My time is running out.”

Lynn really is beautiful. She, literally, can stop traffic. I though how nice it must be to have that power over men. She never has to do anything herself – just smile at the closest guy and he’ll do it for her. I, too, have fallen under her spell.

Sadly, I am not her type. She always swoons over George Clooney, Antonio Banderas and Mark Wahlberg – tough guys with dark hair and dark skin. Typical of the Hawaii girl. Brad Pitt and Matt Damon bore her.

You know, the funny thing is, if I didn’t care about her I could share her – easily. There have been a number of girls that I could do the “friends with benefits” thing. I didn’t care about them – they were pieces of meat. I am really in love – and she needs someone with the confidence of James Bond. And I am not that guy.

I don’t remember the evening ending. I do recall holding her in my arms and saying “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said.

“You have one hell of a funny way of showing it.” I drifted off into an alcohol induced sleep.

--------------------------------

The next morning I had a mean hangover. Scotch is a great way to get through the night lately, but it makes for some killer mornings. I was in her bed and we were naked, but I doubt we had sex. Sorry, I don’t recall.

She got up first – her work day starts earlier than mine. I watched her get ready for her day. She sat on the side of the bed and said “Rich, it’s so hard leaving you like this.”

“Then don’t.” I pleaded with her. “Don’t go – stay. We’ll make love. We’ll be poor and happy. Don’t go.” Sound too needy? Yeah, I thought so, too.

She kissed me and walked out.

I laid in her bed for a while, and though about what to do. I could put all her wine in the freezer and she would come home to wine-sicles. I could put her comforter in the freezer and she could be cold tonight.

I though about what she said last night. She’s right, I don’t have the right to tell her who she can sleep with. I fell in love, and I shouldn’t have. I chased her. And I got hurt. This is my fault – not hers.

In the end, I just left. I don’t want to hurt her.

There is a real ache in my heart.