Further girl-related ponderings
Oct. 7th, 2003 07:01 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thehefnerNicola called me up today, which was really nice. Not just that she called me, but because she wanted to talk to me just to talk to me, to "shoot the shit," as she said. We couldn't talk too extraordinarily long, but it was still really nice. I kept joking about how little we really know about one another, about the nature of our friendship, and such matters. When I skirted the issue of my current relationships with women (or lack thereof) I mentioned how I never hear her talk about her relationships, that as far as I knew there were just those two guys in Greece and I think one guy in the states and that was about it. Her response was an exasperated, "Oh, wow, do I have a lot to tell you..." And I mentioned how she goes to Barnard, all-girl-school you know, and how that sort of limits things, right? "Well, uh, actually..."
...
So. The good news is she still plays for the right side of the team. More or less. I think. I hope. And by "right" side, I mean "my" side.
I mean, this shouldn't bother me, but it kind of does, you know? I mean, relationships with other men I didn't know about, I was prepared for that. But this... I-I can't compete with that. Thank God it's my mind and soul that she likes so much, it's what gives me hope that perhaps there could be something else there...? Ach, too much thinking, too much pondering! Whine whine whine, worth absolutely nothing! God, I should call her again. I wish she'd call me, I'm almost never busy. Everyone else is busy except me.
Damn, I need to get to NYC on a free weekend. In the meantime she and I have decided to call each other once, twice a week or so, just to keep it in touch. We're planning on going into an in-depth discussion of the nature of our friendship, as well as a lot of shit we may not have told each other for whatever reason, and I think the lion's share belongs to her, since she seems to enjoy hearing me talk and she's never used our friendship as a dumping groung of personal stuff. Odd, since, as I told her, that's kind of what friends are there for. Apparently, she liked me going on about my sad, neurotic shit this one time when I was really depressed and sent her this long, ponderous Virginia-Woolf-esque e-mail. She said the letter was "wonderful" in her response. A woman who actually likes to hear me whine. My GOD, I must marry her. If she's not dating anyone at the time, that is. Oh shit, is she? This is the risk I take being so far away from a girl who doesn't entirely know how I feel (and might potentially feel futhermore).
In related news, I saw Annie at the dining hall tonight. Normally, I'd actively avoid any contact with her, and even her "Hi, John" would send me into an hour of depression and pain at the memory of all that went down during our semester-long involvement. But not today. Due to... recent events in my life, shall we say, my perspective has been altered somewhat. No longer is she a living ghost to me, a constant reminder of a past failure to both regret and remember. Not anymore. I saw her sitting there alone, and while I had no desire to share a table with her, a touch of sad nostalgia came upon me then, and even after all the shit and the pain, I found myself thinking of her somewhat fondly.
What we had at first wasn't bad. It wasn't anything bad, really, nor could we ever have been a relationship in any good sense of the word. We could have had something nice, Annie and I, but she just beat it into the ground. I loved chai tea, but there was only so much I could drink before it lost all meaning. She was the same. It's a shame we went to the same college, otherwise what we had might have lasted longer. Oh well. I can finally say that I've moved on, which, when you think about it, is what so many others so desperately wish they could do. And much like other events in my life, it strikes me as a bittersweet moment after which life goes on, as opposed to the pain that lingers and the regret that echoes into every thought and decision afterwards. It's a dubious comfort, to be certain, but a comfort nonetheless.
Hope auditions went well, and I look forward to being with you lot again in the near future.
...
So. The good news is she still plays for the right side of the team. More or less. I think. I hope. And by "right" side, I mean "my" side.
I mean, this shouldn't bother me, but it kind of does, you know? I mean, relationships with other men I didn't know about, I was prepared for that. But this... I-I can't compete with that. Thank God it's my mind and soul that she likes so much, it's what gives me hope that perhaps there could be something else there...? Ach, too much thinking, too much pondering! Whine whine whine, worth absolutely nothing! God, I should call her again. I wish she'd call me, I'm almost never busy. Everyone else is busy except me.
Damn, I need to get to NYC on a free weekend. In the meantime she and I have decided to call each other once, twice a week or so, just to keep it in touch. We're planning on going into an in-depth discussion of the nature of our friendship, as well as a lot of shit we may not have told each other for whatever reason, and I think the lion's share belongs to her, since she seems to enjoy hearing me talk and she's never used our friendship as a dumping groung of personal stuff. Odd, since, as I told her, that's kind of what friends are there for. Apparently, she liked me going on about my sad, neurotic shit this one time when I was really depressed and sent her this long, ponderous Virginia-Woolf-esque e-mail. She said the letter was "wonderful" in her response. A woman who actually likes to hear me whine. My GOD, I must marry her. If she's not dating anyone at the time, that is. Oh shit, is she? This is the risk I take being so far away from a girl who doesn't entirely know how I feel (and might potentially feel futhermore).
In related news, I saw Annie at the dining hall tonight. Normally, I'd actively avoid any contact with her, and even her "Hi, John" would send me into an hour of depression and pain at the memory of all that went down during our semester-long involvement. But not today. Due to... recent events in my life, shall we say, my perspective has been altered somewhat. No longer is she a living ghost to me, a constant reminder of a past failure to both regret and remember. Not anymore. I saw her sitting there alone, and while I had no desire to share a table with her, a touch of sad nostalgia came upon me then, and even after all the shit and the pain, I found myself thinking of her somewhat fondly.
What we had at first wasn't bad. It wasn't anything bad, really, nor could we ever have been a relationship in any good sense of the word. We could have had something nice, Annie and I, but she just beat it into the ground. I loved chai tea, but there was only so much I could drink before it lost all meaning. She was the same. It's a shame we went to the same college, otherwise what we had might have lasted longer. Oh well. I can finally say that I've moved on, which, when you think about it, is what so many others so desperately wish they could do. And much like other events in my life, it strikes me as a bittersweet moment after which life goes on, as opposed to the pain that lingers and the regret that echoes into every thought and decision afterwards. It's a dubious comfort, to be certain, but a comfort nonetheless.
Hope auditions went well, and I look forward to being with you lot again in the near future.
