Quand je L'Ai Echoué
2007-06-20 @ 8:22 p.m.

We met at a little cafe, on neutral ground. I did not want a private meeting because my emotions, rather than my brain, too often control my actions. The previous encounter being a prime example. Plus, public meetings are always less demonstrative. With the added incentive that too much demonstrative behavior in public is illegal.

Chris was already present when I arrived. He was in uniform, damn him. He waved me over to the table and gave me a clumsy, hesitant hug. I always find such encounters, whether planned or mere chance, surreal. In such a fleeting amount of time, two people who had enjoyed intimacy are reduced to discussing the weather and work. When talk turns to the actual relationship, it's as if you're talking about someone else's experience, dissecting someone else's relationship. Your own short-term history becomes alien terrain.

We talked and talked and talked. Actually, Chris did most of the talking. Which is a change. He apologized for a number of things, many times. He actually opened up more than he ever has, although I could tell it was difficult for him to do so. Men seem capable of facing many things, not the least of which is physical danger. Yet, most seem desperately afraid of exposing themselves to anything approaching emotional vulnerability. True, such vulnerability can lead to disappointment and hurt. It also has great rewards.

He tried a few flanking maneuvers, avoiding a direct assault for nearly forty minutes. In all fairness, I did erect a sound defensive position but I held my fire. Finally, after a rather cute fumbling of words, he was blunt: He wants me in his life and is miserable without me.

Yes, miserable. I've never heard a guy actual admit he was miserable. "I miss you" or "I want you" or, god forbid, "I need you.", perhaps. But not miserable.

He explained his previous behavior but did not try to offer an excuse. Which I respect.

For my part, I apologized for lying to him. Chris cut me off, insisting that I never lied to him because he never asked questions, despite certain suspicions. That's not true, though. Does it really matter if a direct question is asked when you know, or believe, another is under certain impressions? Maybe in court, but love and it's concomitant emotions are beyond such mundane technicalities.

I spoke frankly to Chris, which I found difficult. More difficult than I imagined. He knows Steve and I swing. I also told him I don't meet strangers and just have sex. I let him know that it was a relatively small circle of people who have known each other for many years. We don't do it every week but it is a part of our sex life.

His response was that he believed he could handle it and that the time we spent together was more important to him than what I did when we were apart. Truth? A hope or wish? I do not know. I think he's sincere about trying to handle it.

He asked if he could call me. I'd like to say I ended things. I'd like to think I've grown enough to make him go find someone else. But, I'm weak. Perhaps too self-centered. I left the door open. For my sake, I hope he calls. For his, I hope he doesn't.

Ainsi, mon coeur l'a échoué.