Sunday, February 18, 2007

Fantasy vs. reality

Last night, for the first time in a LONG time, I went out to a singles event. I wasn't really expecting to meet anyone -- I went with my friend Shimona. It was a live music concert by the Guthrie Brothers, who mostly played Simon & Garfunkel with some originals and other tributes. I was just happy that I felt well enough to get dressed, put on makeup, and be somewhere outside my apartment.

And guess who showed up? Little Marty.

I won't say I was entirely surprised, because he loves music, and because I'd fantasized that he'd be there. But fantasy is an entirely different thing from reality.

In my fantasy, LM was there with his friend Dovid. Shimona and I would walk up to them so I could say hi. And LM would be really, really happy to see me. He and I would go off to the side and talk, and he'd tell me how much he missed me. He and I would leave together for a wonderful romantic night -- and Dovid would give Shimona a ride home. They'd fall in love, LM and I would fall in love, and we'd dance at each other's weddings.

That didn't happen.

LM was sitting amid four women. I went up to say hi, and he was perfectly polite and indifferent. As if nothing intimate had ever happened between us.

It was incredibly painful. I've spent more than a month trying to get over him, and not succeeding. And there he was, having no problem seeing me again. He didn't even look particularly pleased. Just indifferent.

Thank Gd Shimona was there. During the intermission/refreshments, I had someone to talk to. In fact, we talked during the set as well. She's been in and out of relationships, she could relate. She reminded me that a big part of missing your ex-boyfriend is missing being in a relationship. That was comforting, making me feel less like a lovelorn teenager.

During the second set, Jock and Jeb Guthrie (could they be any more not Jewish?) kept up a stream of patter with the audience.

"Do you want to hear a really sweet love song?" Jock asked at one point.

"NO!" I cried involuntarily.

Taken aback, they played "Layla."

At the end of the concert, LM came up to me again and we chatted briefly. I couldn't look at him. I tried to act as cold as I felt. I didn't think he cared.

But -- my fantasy came true in one respect -- I did snag a ride home for Shimona. With LM and his friend, who drove in from Queens. It felt kind of weird asking them for a favor, but I did it anyway; it was very late, and the subway ride back for her would have taken more than an hour.

I shared a cab home with a member of LM's little harem. She told me that she'd only met him that evening, and that he wasn't dating any of the other three. Some comfort.

I'm just glad that I deleted his phone number from my cell phone, and that the call waiting memory on my home phone is all taken up with my sister's phone number, because my niece calls me every day (sometimes more than once). Even if I wanted to call and ask how he could be so indifferent to me, when we'd been so close, I couldn't.
Copyright (c) 2007 "Ayelet Survivor"

1 comment:

  1. It's a hard thing to do, but LM has to be filed away. He was great when he was around, and he provided a much-needed counterpoint to the negativity and difficulty of the bad place, and now his usefulness is at an end. And I'm very, very glad you shot down the sweet love song proposal. I'll bet there were plenty of people in the audience who appreciated your candor.

    Like the man says, "Make the best of the situation..."