Plan B
I am going to try to write about this and be done with it. Put it away and not think about it anymore. An experiment.
I went to the beach today, but made a preemtive phone call to see what he was doing. He was procrastinating. Our call was abruptly cut short when the quirky blone chick popped her head in to his house before going down to the beach. He called me back and told me this. No! I'm going there! She can't go too!
I had to switch to plan B. Go to the other beach that isn't far away, but is still far enough. But maybe today it wasn't. I jumped the three feet down onto the sand and resolved to make the best of things. After all, I don't care about her, I can watch out for her, and hopefully avoid her. Hopefully she doesn't know I'm around.
I sit. I read. I let the sun beat down on the back of my legs in the way it does that tells me my skin is changing color. I listened to the kids next to me talk about how young they were when they started drinking alcohol. And how much they drank. I watched the guy with the wobbly puppy and the guy who's dog plays fetch in a strange ADD kind of way. I watched the boys throw a football, then catch it as they jumped backwards into oncoming waves.
Eventually, I had to pack up and go home. As I walked away, I looked back towards the area where she might be and I spotted her, but only because he was with her. He is unmistakeable, even from far away. I felt a knot in my stomach, and remembered him saying something about not ruining my day. Consider it ruined. Not because she was there, but because he had obviously made a choice to be with her and not me. Made the choice to procrastinate further because of her, after telling me he couldn't visit me. He always says it isn't a competition, but today, she obviously won.
He knows I don't like her. I try to be a good sport about her. But really, my bad feelings aren't because of her alone. They are because of how he relates to her. How he exhalts everything she does or says into something incredibly important, or at least more important than me. How he giggles at her cuteness, guffaws at her bluntness, and drops everything whenever she beckons.
And after this, I don't want to talk about it. I want to forget it ever happened. Because I was reasonably content for most of today. Perhaps the mantra is working.
I went to the beach today, but made a preemtive phone call to see what he was doing. He was procrastinating. Our call was abruptly cut short when the quirky blone chick popped her head in to his house before going down to the beach. He called me back and told me this. No! I'm going there! She can't go too!
I had to switch to plan B. Go to the other beach that isn't far away, but is still far enough. But maybe today it wasn't. I jumped the three feet down onto the sand and resolved to make the best of things. After all, I don't care about her, I can watch out for her, and hopefully avoid her. Hopefully she doesn't know I'm around.
I sit. I read. I let the sun beat down on the back of my legs in the way it does that tells me my skin is changing color. I listened to the kids next to me talk about how young they were when they started drinking alcohol. And how much they drank. I watched the guy with the wobbly puppy and the guy who's dog plays fetch in a strange ADD kind of way. I watched the boys throw a football, then catch it as they jumped backwards into oncoming waves.
Eventually, I had to pack up and go home. As I walked away, I looked back towards the area where she might be and I spotted her, but only because he was with her. He is unmistakeable, even from far away. I felt a knot in my stomach, and remembered him saying something about not ruining my day. Consider it ruined. Not because she was there, but because he had obviously made a choice to be with her and not me. Made the choice to procrastinate further because of her, after telling me he couldn't visit me. He always says it isn't a competition, but today, she obviously won.
He knows I don't like her. I try to be a good sport about her. But really, my bad feelings aren't because of her alone. They are because of how he relates to her. How he exhalts everything she does or says into something incredibly important, or at least more important than me. How he giggles at her cuteness, guffaws at her bluntness, and drops everything whenever she beckons.
And after this, I don't want to talk about it. I want to forget it ever happened. Because I was reasonably content for most of today. Perhaps the mantra is working.
posted by Ocean | 11:16 PM
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