ham & cheese on wry: re: the muppets (part eleven)

Here's the next installment of my lengthy tome. Please click here for Parts One through Ten.

~ Part Eleven ~

Each day was more painful than the next. In one moment she was hugging me, holding my hand and running her fingers through my hair. In the next, she was snapping at me and brushing me off if I dared touch her. If there was to be affection shown, it was to be her call. It seemed like she had outgrown me and was resentful that I hadn't enjoyed a similar "evolution."

I was demoted from in-demand rock star to dreaded barnacle. Lowercase Ed was her source of excitement. I was a mere pain in the ass.

My friends from home called me regularly and emailed me every day with words of support and promises to go to "girly gay bars" with me when I got home. Their rallying from miles away compared to her bitchiness close by made me so homesick. It was a complete role reversal. Just months prior, I felt ill at ease with my friends and completely at home with her. I was grateful for achieving new heights with my old friends but I wished it hadn't come at such a dear price.

It was so bizarre to feel strange around her. I tried to look in her eyes and find her and reclaim that space we once shared but it was pointless. This person wasn't her. This girl was mean, cold and heartless. My little Okie girl was nowhere to be found. In her place was The Bad Seed.

Another day went by and her attitude again kicked what was left of my tattered, bony ass. I sat on the roof of her dorm with her and Rice, drinking beer and smoking cigarettes. It was the roof she often told me about. She'd go up there and sit under the stars and think of me. She'd close her eyes and imagine that I was there with her holding her in my arms. On that night she stared off into space, no doubt dreaming of Lowercase Ed's embrace.

I tried my best to make the most of the situation but she was testy and impatient with me. At one point, she left me and Rice alone and went off to sit on her own. I officially had enough. Reconciliation seemed elusive but I could at least rescue my pride.

"Is there a Greyhound station around here?" I asked Rice.

"I don't know. I'm sure there is. Why? Wait, you're not thinking of taking the bus home?!"

"I am. I can't take this anymore. Look how she's treating me. I can't stand it."

"You can't take a bus from here to New York!"

"What choice do I have?! I can't change my plane ticket and I can't afford to buy a new one. Greyhound can't be more than $200, right?"

"I'll ask around and find out where the bus is. But don't make any decisions yet. Just sleep on it. Maybe tomorrow you'll feel better. You shouldn't make any decisions when you're this upset."

On the way back inside Rice pulled her aside and told her I planned to high-tail it out of Missouri on four wheels. She confronted me about it in bed that night.

"Curly, you can't take the bus home. That's retarded. I took it to Tulsa once and it was awful. You can't go all the way to New York. We'll figure this out. But you're definitely not taking the bus home."

"Well then I'm getting a hotel room or something. I can't stay here with you anymore. I hate it here. I just want to go home but I'm stuck in this fucking place! I want to go home so bad! I don't know why I ever came here."

And then I covered my face with my hands and bawled bitter, flowing tears. I don't think I've ever wept so openly in front of someone like that.

"I hate seeing you cry," she said with a mix of impatience and shock.

I could tell she was scared. Whether she wanted to admit or not, she knew she was partly responsible for the anorexic-looking shattered mess of a woman weeping in her bed. She didn't say much but the look on her face spoke volumes. Isolating her feelings for me and treating me like shit were coping mechanisms for her and up until then, they were working. But her conscience started to eat away at her. She thought she successfully removed our history and memories from her mind. If I stayed far away, she never would have faced the repercussions. But there I was to remind her of them.

I was glad she finally got that much-needed slap in the face. She had it coming after all. She had the right to break up with me of course, but she didn't have the right to conveniently forget why I was in such an emotional tangle. What was once her goal -- my love -- was now a source of scorn. It was like a big, hairy wart on the tip of my nose that made her look away in disgust. She was so caught up in the fun and excitement of her budding relationship with Lowercase Ed that she forgot that it might cause me pain.

But my protruding bones reminded her of responsibility in the whole messy affair. My tears were evidence of her complicity. She no longer had the neat, tidy ending she envisioned and convinced herself of to rationalize being with Lowercase Ed. My presence there reminded her that delusions were nothing more than a brief mental vacation, not a permanent residence. And she hated and resented me for it. I was a shattered, quivering wreck in part because of a decision she made.

In fairness, I was an accident waiting to happen. I can't blame my complete emotional collapse on her. I was a delicate ecosystem to begin with. Her method of breaking up with me and her behavior afterwards were both atrocious but I do claim responsibility as well. It's unfair and erroneous to only blame her. This exercise isn't to crucify her. She was a young, confused girl. It doesn't excuse her asshole-like behavior but at least it makes a bit more sense. She was 20 years old. Hell, I don't even remember being 20. I can't comfortably say that I would have acted any better at that age.

I continued my crying fit until I exhausted myself and fell asleep. The next day, Monday, I looked up fares on Amtrak's website. While not an ideal means of travel, it was better than a bus. I purchased a coach ticket (couldn't afford a sleeper car) departing Jefferson City, Missouri on Wednesday morning and arriving in Newark Penn Station on Thursday night.

At her request, I didn't leave right away. She wanted a little more time together since the trip thus far had been awful. Once my ticket was purchased, I was noticeably happier. I couldn't wait to go home but I granted her one more day to try to end things on a better note. I was feeling better at least. And I had gained some perspective at last. I was disappointed in the outcome but her behavior towards me further illustrated just how young she was. I reminded myself that I got involved with her against my better judgment. She was a little girl who got into something way over her head. She probably wasn't gay. She was just experimenting, blah, blah, blah. I don't know that I fully believed that but my mind craved reasoning and logic before it could begin the process of moving on. The truth I created in my head was painful but it was at least substantial and made some sense. I felt like I was ready to start the process of moving on.

Later that night, I sat down with Rice and had a long talk. She and I had really hit it off during this trip. She made me feel welcome and comfortable while my ex-girlfriend treated me like the plague. She was bummed that I was leaving early and under sad circumstances. She wanted to keep in touch with me so I stopped by her room to give her my contact information. What was intended to be a quick exchange of email addresses turned into a lengthy discussion.

Since the day I arrived, I spoke to Rice and Breezy under the assumption that they knew I was their friend's ex-girlfriend and that our relationship was of a sexual nature. It wasn't a silly assumption on my part because she told me that she had finally confided in her friends.

When Rice talked to me when I first arrived, she looked a bit perplexed when I alluded to the break up. It turns out my ex-girlfriend had left out several key details, namely the "girlfriend" part. The perspective I gained earlier? Shot to hell.

Rice and Breezy had their suspicions all along but she denied it when they asked her. After Lowercase Ed arrived on the scene and I had my meltdown, they were led to believe that I was just a friend who developed romantic feelings that were in no way returned. It was just a "close friendship." So, until I cleared things up, Rice and Breezy thought I was a closeted lesbian who tried courting their straight friend. Understandably, Rice didn't appreciate her friend's deception nor the awkward position it put her in.

"I am so livid right now," Rice said. "She lied to us. Repeatedly! I'm also sorry that I had to be the one to tell you this, Curly."

I was angry, hurt, confused, pissed, outraged and sad. But mostly I felt defeated. She betrayed me. Her. Of all people. Dumping me for someone else was almost understandable but to deny the existence of our relationship was unforgivable.

"This is so fucked up," I said while shaking my head in disbelief. "I cannot believe this is happening. I didn't imagine this relationship, Rice. I swear I didn't. It was real!"

"I know. I know. She has a lot of explaining to do. She's been lying to us all this time. And I've asked her repeatedly if there was anything going on with the two of you and she denied it time and time again. And I've been observing you two for the past few days. I see what she's doing to you being all cold one minute and touchy-feely the next. It's not fair to you and it's not fair to Lowercase Ed. I'm friends with him and I don't think he'd appreciate the fact that while he's in Arizona [attending grad school], she's here acting all flirty with her ex-girlfriend. Clearly, he doesn't know about the two of you."

"Well, she didn't tell him about me at first and when I found out, I went OFF on her. So she called me the next day and claimed that she told him everything. But then again, she also told me that she told you and Breezy the whole story..."

"What's scary, Curly, is that I think she actually thinks she told us the whole story."

"That just further proves what I've thought all along -- she's living in her own warped reality. I've been so upset mostly because she's being really selective with elements of our relationship. Like, in her mind, her version is true. She's recreated our history or something. It's one thing to tell you guys that version but she's trying to get me to go along with it. That's what made me so crazy. I couldn't accept that and I did my best to fight back from so far away. I mean, that's why I came here... I think. I don't know."

"God, what was she thinking? And, she knows you're in here with me and we're practically whispering. Isn't she curious? What the hell does she think we're in here talking about?"

"I don't know. Isn't she afraid that you and I are going to put two and two together? Or maybe she doesn't care. I just don't know anymore. God, my head is throbbing."

"I'm sorry, Curly. Are you okay?" Rice asked sympathetically.

"I... I'm just stunned. Never in a million years did I think she was capable of this. Never. I mean, I wasn't a complete fool. I allowed for the possibility that we might break up one day but oh my God, never did I think this would happen. She's totally denying being in an actual relationship. And she was! I swear on it, Rice!"

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. What I do know is that leaving here just got a whole hell of lot easier. I needed closure and I think I got it. I mean, I have a lot to deal with still, obviously, but at least it's a start. It's hard to see it right now but there's a lesson in all of this. Bit by bit, it's unfolding. But the major thing is that I've finally dealt with the fact that I had a lesbian relationship. I came out to most of my friends. Unlike her, I'm no longer living a lie."

"God! I can't tell you how many times me and Breezy asked her if you two were girlfriends and she denied it. The thing is, we don't even care. That would never matter us. She knows that. I'm pissed and really offended that she wouldn't trust us. I have SO many gay friends!"

"Well, in her defense, it's no reflection on you or your attitudes. I kept it a secret from all of my friends. I did not want to admit that I was gay. I didn't want to say it out loud. It was just easier to project my own fear onto my friends. I justified my secrecy by repeatedly telling myself that no one else would understand. But it was MY problem that kept me silent, you know?"

"You never told anyone?!"

"Nope. No one. God, it was hard. And not just after she broke up with me. It's hard to be so in love with someone and not be able to tell anyone. I was so happy with her and part of me wanted to scream it to anyone who would listen. But I was scared. And it took its toll on me and us. She was scared too and at times, she checked out of our relationship. But other times, she was SO proud of it and was all waving the rainbow flag and wanted to do all these lesbian things. She was always talking to Lesbian Friend from School about us."

"Okay, now that REALLY pisses me off. She's not even close with her! I'm supposed to be her one of her best friends."

"She's scared, Rice. The girl's got issues. I mean, so do I but she's taking it to a whole other level. At this point, I don't know who she's being honest with. She told me repeatedly that I know her better than anyone else. She's been pleading with me to understand that. It's like she wants me to acknowledge that she's living a double-life and just accept it. I'm trying to be understanding that she's young and got in over her head but she's not taking responsibility for her actions. She just wants me to somehow magically be okay with this. Like it's a pill I can swallow or something. Maybe she can do that but I can't. And I won't."

"Are you going to go in there and confront her about this?"

"I don't know. I mean, what's the point? I'm absolutely disgusted with her. I didn't even want to come here but something told me I had to. And now, thanks to you, I have the answer."

"I'm so sorry."

"No, don't be. I came, I saw, I got my ass handed to me by a confused, little girl. I've got one more day here and then I never have to see or speak to her again. I'm tired, Rice. I tried to fight for her -- for us -- but there's no point now. I don't even want friendship at this point. I never thought I'd say this but... she's shady. I don't trust her. She's selfish and I kinda can't stand her. I mean, I love her -- which is a problem -- but I don't like her. At all."

"She's really confused, Curly. I know she loves you more than anything. And I know that she wants your friendship more than anything in the world. But, well, she has to learn that actions have consequences. She made a decision and she has to live with it."

"Yeah, and that's the thing because, so far, she hasn't taken responsibility for her decision. Whatever, she's entitled to not choose me but I'm entitled to not like it. But she hates the fact that I'm not following her lead. Instead, I'm actually feeling this, you know? Yes, I'm a complete mess but I'm at least dealing with this. But, whatever, it's time to move on. I have to go home and take care of myself. If this is how she wants to live her life, fine. I want no part of it."

"Just so you know, I'm going to approach her about this when you leave. All of it."

"Be my guest. I stand by everything I said. I'm not embellishing or exaggerating the nature of our relationship. I mean, I'm not one to kiss and tell but well... she might not consider herself a lesbian now but she sure as hell acted like one. And quite believably, I might add. Again, it's not my style to discuss my personal business but I wasn't some lecherous lesbian on the prowl. She instigated things just as much."

"I don't doubt it. She would light up whenever she spoke about you... which was ALL the time!! And she used to say to me and Breezy, 'You know, I don't need a husband. I could live with Curly the rest of my life and be completely happy.' In her own way, she was telling us, I guess. But don't worry. I do believe you. I saw how happy she was with you."

"Yeah. We were really happy. I mean, it wasn't perfect and obviously, we had a lot of problems but it was really remarkable at times, you know? If I could have married that girl, I would have."

My voice trailed off and my mind wandered into something akin to a slow-motion tribute, similar to those ones shown on the Olympics that are always set to Sarah McLachlan's "I Will Remember You."

"What are you thinking about?" asked Rice.

"Her. And how this is so NOT where I imagined us. Ever. I wonder what she'll say when you confront her."

"I have no idea."

"I'd be interested to find out. I better go back before she gets suspicious. I'm tired and I don't want to discuss this with her tonight. I just don't."