Background: The Source of HeartBreak (SoHB) Part 2

The SoHB had a hard time with the breakup. It confounded me. He didn’t seem to value me that greatly when we were together. In all of our eight months as a couple, he took me out on only two dates! Why was he upset now? Fortunately, work sent me to Birmingham for a month, so we had some much needed space. When I returned, I threw myself a 30th birthday party. It was a raging success with one exception. I had hoped that my former crush would attend, and my fantasy of reconciling with him put the SoHB completely out of mind. The crush didn’t show, of course, so I holed up in my room for a spell, crying on The Flirt’s shoulder. Ah, well. Shortly, I was back in the swing of the party. Later, the SoHB found me nearly passed out on the couch with The Flirt. We weren’t cuddling, or even touching, but I recall hearing him swear softly at the sight of us. I feigned sleep. I later announced to the remaining party-goers that I was going to bed. They were welcome to continue as long as they liked … just lock my doors when the last one left. The SoHB is always last to leave a party. He came to my room and sat on my bed. I can’t remember much of our conversation, but there was some discussion of giving it another try.

Two weeks later, it was his birthday. Predictably, his ideal revelry was attending a local event called Beerfest. Also in typical SoHB fashion, he ran about 2 hours late for his own birthday gathering. As I watched him walk toward us, having grown frustrated in waiting for him, I felt absolutely certain that I did NOT want to try again. Having a heart-to-heart in the middle of a crowd would be inappropriate, so I resolved to keep my distance throughout the evening. At one point, after we had enjoyed all the offerings of Beerfest, I found myself cornered in a bar with him and another friend for a length beyond endurance. I had to escape…quickly! Making the excuse of finding the others, I exited to find Rachel* and The Flirt involved in lively conversation. This better fit my mood. I stopped to enjoy their repartee. Within minutes the SoHB burst out of the bar in a huff, mumbling incoherently. He was upset that I had left his company to enjoy The Flirt’s, innocuous as it was. I tried to calm him …reason with him, but I wasn’t going to chase him all over town. He went off on his own, and I didn’t see any more of him that night. I heard from Rachel that when she later chanced upon him, he was livid, alleging there was something going on between The Flirt and me. He was upset with both of us for several weeks. I tried telling the sober SoHB that he had jumped to conclusions, but he was more content playing the role of wronged friend and ex-boyfriend. I decided to give him space. The Flirt and I cooled our flirtation.

In time, the SoHB discovered that nothing came of his suspicions. While I gave him space, I was also ever-present, reminding him that my friendship was still available. Our comradery restored itself, and we returned to our old routine of socializing on weekends with friends at the local pub. The element of romance was hardly missed, except for one brief moment when I thought he might win me back. I walked out of my front door one Sunday to find a single rosebud tucked beneath my windshield wiper. That single token wasn’t enough to sway my decision, but if he continued…

When I questioned him about it the next day, he expressed regret over making such a foolish gesture. He had chased after girls before, and he was resolved to never do it again.

Most of the time, I was proud of how we almost seamlessly flowed out of romance into friendship. I was certain this was how mature people handled breaking up. By November, we were content and secure in our friendship. This was the month that Jeri*, his oldest friend, was married. She had tried setting him up with a co-worker of hers for a while, and finally succeeded by arranging their first date to be at her wedding. When I learned of this, it touched a jealous streak I didn’t know I possessed. I made unsuccessful last-minute attempts to find my own date. I dreaded the blessed day.

If I’d had a date, perhaps I wouldn’t have felt so uncomfortable. The Flirt was there solo, as well. It helped. We more or less kept each other company throughout. It became my aim to unobtrusively observe the SoHB’s behavior with his date. I wondered if he would be attentive to her. I wondered if he would show her the interest of which I suspected I hadn’t been worthy. I felt a mixture of pleasure and dismay that he completely lacked any chivalrous manners. Although I would have been hurt to see him fawn over her, I hated seeing him be so unimpressive. He seemed ignorant of all the courtesies a gentleman pays a lady. I found myself torn between coaxing him to offer her a drink, and secretly being pleased that he hadn’t done so by his own volition.

The newly married couple held an informal party at their home after the reception. (I guess everyone is doing it these days. I’ve been to three weddings where they did this.) Everyone imbibed without restraint. As often occurs, the boys and girls segregated to talk about each other. Conversation was unmemorable until the SoHB’s date left us. Immediately, the conversation turned to the SoHB and his ineptness with women. Jeri had also been trying to urge him in the right direction all night. She turned to another friend and said, “You know, the SoHB and Kwirk dated a few times….” I didn’t react, but it bothered me. We hadn’t just “dated a few times.” We had been involved, but here was his closest friend displaying ignorance of it. At least her input made me feel a bit better that it wasn’t just me. He couldn’t give the appropriate attention to any girl.

We left the party at the same time. On my way home, he called me on my cell phone after dropping off his date. I asked him to come over. We made out for the first time since… I can’t even remember. All the while I insisted that he not take me too seriously. I strove to be completely frank about my mixed up feelings and behavior… that they did not mean I wanted to be with him or keep him from being with someone else. I told him as we lay together that I considered this night a final farewell. It was to be a bittersweet ending.

He continued to date the girl briefly. I don’t know who ended it, but he later told me that he hadn’t been ready yet. I’ve wondered if I unintentionally sabotaged that relationship.

The next several months were spent in a paradox of growing ever more dependent on him while trying to distance myself. Most of the time I felt that he was still too attached, but I recognized a co-dependency in myself, as well. Around the first anniversary of our breakup, I developed a slight crush on The Flirt. For once the SoHB had perfect timing. A little health scare made him take notice of his diet and give sobriety a turn. He also began a religious work-out regimen during his lunch breaks. He turned down all happy hour and lunch invitations. This worked well for me at this point. I had no desire to start a relationship with The Flirt, but I wanted the freedom to show interest in anyone I chose without reservation. Before his sobriety, I had also managed to end his drunken 2AM phone calls and visits to my door. I was moving on.

The summer was always a demanding travel season at my company. I spent most of it on the road. I returned to find The Flirt disinterested in me. He was infatuated with someone else. The SoHB slowly came off of his sobriety, but maintained his diet and exercise. I soon noted that he had completely lost the beer belly and was looking fine in his blue jeans. I found myself attracted to him as never before. I tried distracting myself with The Flirt, but that came to a screeching halt when I found out that he conspicuously disappeared from my Halloween party to have a liaison with a scantily clad Cher. “Cher” was a co-worker with a penchant for flashing her augmented breasts, plus many embarrassing drunken moments. She was someone The Flirt had always claimed to disdain and was smart enough to leave alone. When I learned of his indiscretion with her, my attraction to him evaporated… poof! ... Gone. The only desirable person left was the SoHB.

It started gradually, insidiously. Shivers ran through me when he passed my desk at work. I found myself missing those early morning phone calls and visits. If he participated in an event, I wanted to be there. I might skip it if he wasn’t. I wanted his attention in spite of myself. I defied caution to receive it. We again became so tightly entangled, I began to fear what might happen if one of us became involved with someone. I began to fear what might happen to me.

I took inventory, sifting through all of my options. While The Flirt possessed a certain sex appeal, he was wholly unsuitable. While I was exposed to men of confidence, charm, and ambition, no one could tug at my heart like the SoHB. All paths pointed back to him. He was, without a doubt, my best friend. To him, I divulged my secrets. In him, I trusted more than anyone. I’d found in him the rare quality for which I wished above all else… a gentle spirit. Looking over our history, also, I believed our struggles might have made us right for each other. I realized that the divergent issues of religion and politics no longer burdened me. I saw that in our dating relationship, both of us had been on the rebound. Those past heartaches were finally healed. Lastly, my physical attraction to him was stronger than I ever thought possible.

These thoughts plagued me as I reconsidered the state of our relationship. There were still significant doubts. I couldn’t escape my concern over his drinking. I also feared that a renewed romance was doomed, and this time, a friendship wouldn’t arise from the ashes. But, I doubted our friendship could survive anyway if one of us found someone. One fateful night in late December, the fear became a reality.

We had our typical Friday night happy hour, this time with a few different faces. The only regulars from our illustrious crew were the SoHB and I, together as always. When the restaurant started closing around midnight, the SoHB, our co-worker, Janeice*, and I were the only ones remaining. They were not ready to end the evening. I, however, had resolved to drink and party less. I felt it had spun out of control over the last couple of months. The SoHB had friends who called him from a nearby bar. He wanted to join them. If anything could dissuade me further, that was it. There was a long, complicated history between a certain friend of his and my family. I knew him before I met the SoHB and never cared for him. The SoHB knew this and had never pressured me to spend time with that friend until this night. He was petulant that I wouldn’t consider joining them. I didn’t understand how he could expect it of me. He knew how uncomfortable that person made me. Besides, I reasoned, I wasn’t his girlfriend.

Janeice told the SoHB to wait outside. She wanted to talk to me for a minute. When he stood to walk away, he glared at me in such a manner I hadn’t seen since the night of Beerfest. I was puzzled. Why didn’t he understand? Janeice looked me in the eye and said, “Don’t you see what this means to him? Don’t you see what this is? It’s a test. He’s testing you to see how much you care. C’mon and go. What will it hurt? It will make him feel better.”

I studied the carpet and shook my head in bemusement. My mind flooded with thoughts. A test?!! How many times had he failed me? …And at nothing so difficult as what he was asking. What made him think he could ask anything of me… require this sort of thing from me? We weren’t a couple. It might get confusing sometimes, but we weren’t. Besides, it wasn’t all about his friend. I had resolved to not stay out late. I was trying to look out for myself. He should understand. He would have to deal with it.

I shook my head and said, “I can’t, Janeice. I just can’t.”

He sat in his car waiting for Janeice. He barely glanced at us approaching. I told him I was sorry, but I couldn’t go. He nodded, saying that he understood… that it was okay, but there was something about his demeanor that was not okay. Something … defeated. I hesitated, but he had said it was all right. I went home. Much later, I learned that after meeting his friends, at his third bar of the night, he met an old acquaintance. Things began to change drastically.

***TO BE CONTINUED***

*=Names have been changed to protect those whom I like.