The gloaming

[Jimbo]

jim- you've been quiet. All ok?

Yeah, just been taking some time to myself lately for some processing/grieving.

When we last left the saga, W wrote an email wanting a meet up at "a Starbucks or something" to sign the respective car titles over, and she wanted me to email her back with a time and place. I didn't email her back because I didn't want her to have any way of coming back at me and telling me that I was being manipulative, telling her where to be, what to do, etc. The next day, she emails that she is free to meet on Thursday. I replied to her that, assuming that I was able to walk, I would be at Four Provinces (an Irish restaurant/pub near where I volunteer as an energy worker on Thursday evenings) on Thursday having dinner at 6:30 that evening, and I would bring the car titles with me. I figured that was about as close to my saying, "If you want it that bad, you can meet me on MY schedule to take care of it" as I was going to get, without me actually saying it. She actually picked up on the "assuming that I was able to walk" bit as meaning that I was having another gout attack (which I was), and wrote back that she was "so sorry".

Compassion? Interesting.

Well, Thursday came and I had to cancel out because I couldn't walk yet, so I wrote her an email saying that I would be there next Thursday. She writes back some controlling sounding BS about how that would be convenient to her schedule. Whatever.

Next Thursday comes along, and she writes me an email asking me if I was going to be at the restaurant that evening, and if I remembered to bring the car titles. I remember thinking, "Well, I haven't cancelled out, have I? If you really want to know if I'll be there tonight, why don't you just show up and find out? The damn restaurant is a shorter trip for you than it is for me!" Oh, the things we wish we could say!

I opted instead to ignore her email. Another interesting thing that I found out after our little meeting at the restaurant is that, while I was out of the office conducting some business with my D lawyer that afternoon before I met her, not only did she write me a second email that day asking if I was going to be there that evening, but she also called me both at home and at work. Man, she sure didn't want to waste her time if I wasn't going to be there, did she? I got the email almost two hours after she sent it, and decided I'd throw her a bone, and responded with a simple, "I'll be there."

I was already seated and had my order placed when she arrived at the restaurant at the appointed time. I think that maybe my not immediately answering her emails sent her the mistaken message that I was angry with her, because she hesitated in sitting down, and asked me if she was welcome to join me. (Well, we agreed to meet here and now, didn't we, you silly woman?!?!?!? ) Granted, I WAS dressed out like I was out on a date, in a dress jacket, black dress shoes, button down, collared dress shirt and dress pants- all in black, with a little cologne to top it all off. (She once mentioned in her writings that she thought her OM looked so good dressed in black- I figured what the hell. It couldn't hurt to try the same and see what happens! She likes black? I'll give her black. I chalked it up to a science experiment. )

Well, I invited her to sit down and she immediately asked if she could order up some dinner as well. Interesting. After I told her that I didn't mind, and she had placed her order, we talked about all sorts of stuff ranging from what I was doing with myself to how I had seen her first name and last initial flash on the TV screen as the winner of a weekly contest that the local PBS affiliate puts on that I know she enters every week, but had yet to win. She looked surprised, because she said that she hadn't been notified that she won, but that she'd check the website and see if her name was posted as a winner.

To make a long story short, an encounter that should have taken about 45 seconds at most to conduct the business she was there to conduct, took two hours. It took her about an hour and a half before she even produced the car title for me to sign over to her. It might have even gone on longer, had I not remembered my DBing methodology and been the first to end the encounter. As we were wrapping up, she said something to the effect of "Well, I'm glad that we got a chance to catch up tonight, and that we were able to talk as good friends." I thought to myself, "Yeah, you had a really good time tonight didn't you? And that's a threat to your state of mind, so you have to add that friends bit in there somewhere to reestablish your boundaries, don't you?" I chuckled to myself as I responded to her, "Yeah, I'm really glad that we got a chance to catch up tonight, and that we were able to talk too." She picked up on the difference immediately, and said, "I noticed you didn't say 'as good friends'. Are we not good friends?"

I answered her with, "Of course we're good friends. We've always been good friends. But I'm holding the door open for something more. And I hope you are too."

She responded with "Okay."

It wasn't until the next day that I connected with what happened next. As we made our way out of the restaurant area and into the bar area, the walkway splits toward the front entrance, and toward the back entrance where all the parking is (There's no street parking available). She asked me where I parked, and I told her that I had to meet up with some folks in the building on the opposite corner of the intersection, so I was parked behind the building over there. She said that she was parked in the back of the restaurant, so she was going to go now. She led with a hug, so I hugged her back and fought the strong urge to kiss her. We let go at the same time, and I turned to walk away, never looking back.

The thing that I realized when looking back on it the next day, is that when we parted, she asked me where I had parked. Which implied that she looked for my car in the lot when she first arrived, and didn't see it. What does it mean? Does it mean anything at all? Probably not. Then again....

"Who the hell knows."

As a quick addendum, the next day I got an email from my W with the subject line: "sorry, I'm still a loser", telling me that she didn't win the PBS contest (Notice she didn't say "Sorry, I didn't win". Are we fishing for some personal validation, perhaps? ), and including the name of the person that did. Since she told me that the winners were posted online, she knew that I could look it up for myself, so why the email? So I decided to run the email through the MLC Translator, and got a really nice surprise. As best as I can tell, it translated out to:

"Thanks for everything. I had a really good time with you last night. Love, S."