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Chapter Twelve - Chicago - |
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I had kept tabs on 3a somewhat through Best Friend. Some time after I left town they had a falling out and now spoke infrequently. 3a had finished school, moved to Chicago, and was waitressing at three different places. When I first moved to L.A. she and I spoke on the phone a few times in an attempt to carve out a friendship, but 3b justifiably put the kibosh on that. It had been several years since I heard 3a’s voice. The last time we saw each other was the night before I moved. I didn’t think about her as often as I used to. I was down to only about once a day, for about twenty-four hours at a time. When she did appear in my thoughts, I felt short of breath and got a knot in my stomach. These were the effects of the shame flowing through me -- shame and jealousy. In the time leading up to my departure, 3a held fast to her feelings for me. Given all that was conspiring against her, that took a great deal of strength. The night before I left town, she still knew that she wanted me. Against all odds, she had the balls to make that one last-ditch effort. I was ashamed to say I didn’t share her strength. Nor did I have her courage. I certainly had the feelings, but was too weak to hold on. That episode was swathed in uncertainty. The coward’s path required the least of me, so I took it. But I didn’t have to move, not that very day. There was nothing waiting in California. I wasn’t headed toward something so much as I was headed away from everything else. It would have been a simple if not easy matter to put the move on hold and sort out the mess. Unfortunately, I lacked the courage to face the tough choice and do something about it. The shame I now felt for my weakness was enormous. Jealousy over 3a’s strength and courage filled me over capacity. It was high time I grew some new balls, or at least an ill-conceived plan.
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On the plane to Chicago I hatched that very plan. I would find her and tell her how stupid I was for thinking she was too young to get serious, that I was afraid to face my own feelings for her, and how it was all one giant mistake after another. Mostly, I would tell her I was sorry. That was all the bullshit I told myself. In the real world I hoped she’d take one look at me, rush into my arms, and I wouldn’t have to say anything at all. Just how selfish and egotistical was that? I had apparently not changed at all. I was still expecting her to do all the work and let me slide back into her life with no cover charge. It never crossed my mind that she might be harboring a few different feelings for me by now. Worse still, she could be completely over me. Anger I could deal with. I couldn’t bear her indifference. From Vegas to Denver I stared at one page in my address book. The holiday that I dropped her at the train station she scribbled her parents’ new address in my book so I would always be able to locate her. I don't think she had this day in mind. But that was all a blur. She had added a little something underneath just for me. Now all I could see was that little something...
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