Something

Yesterday morning, Marc e-mailed me and asked if I felt like getting together after my therapy session with Clay. I accepted his invitation and proceeded to feel nauseous and irritable for the rest of the day. I felt smothered, overbooked and somehow tricked into seeing him two days in a row, something I am much too frightened to plan that way. It happened, though, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

I discussed the details with Clay and talked about how confusing this budding romance is for me. On one hand, I just want to be alone and on the other hand, I just want somebody important in my life. I have found myself in an impossible place. I want exactly the same thing that I don’t want. Leave it to me to be so difficult with myself..

After my session, I walked up to Central Square and awaited Marc’s arrival. He was cute, as usual, very animated and sweet. We walked to a small Mexican restaurant and enjoyed dinner and conversation. The evening was short and after we left the restaurant, we walked to his car. He drove me home and we sat for a few minutes saying good-bye. I thanked him for his patience. He is working very hard to accommodate my current state of mind and doing a very good job, I might add. I think he really cares about me.

I feel differently about us now. There’s a standard called “What a Difference a Day Made” which comes to mind right now. Yesterday I wanted to cancel our date and today, I’m looking forward to tonight’s date. I suppose I could revert back to not wanting to be with him, but I think that only happened because I spent time in his house before I was really ready to.

My boss just approached me and informed me that I am free to leave at 3:00 today, since today is the Friday before a holiday weekend. The tradition is a nice perk which has remained rather consistent at my company, at least for the eleven years I have worked here.

I have lived without Chris in my life for exactly one year and eight months, today. During the time I shared with him, he was the first person I called when I learned of my early release from work. Together we would plan the rest of our day and weekend based on what time I was leaving work for the day, since he was usually already home or at school. Sometimes we met for coffee in the afternoon, relaxed and then embarked upon our weekend plans together. For the past year and eight months, nobody has cared when I have gotten out of work early. There has been no one there to be happy to see me a little earlier or happier to spend more time with me. Likewise, I have not been excited to be released earlier, since the better part of the past year and a half I have spent either working or crying.

Today, the moment I found out I was getting out early, I called Marc. The act came as a surprise to me. I didn’t expect such an automatic admission on my part that things might be working, that we might be building something together.

Something.