Sep. 6th, 2017

dmilewski: (Default)
Every time that I listed to "My Lucky Ball and Chain," my mind goes back, way back, to Christina B., who I dated 17 years ago. (Dated as in no scuttlebutt. Sorry. Nothing to see there.) Like the lyric from TMBG, "Five foot tall and sick of me and all my rattling on." Whenever I hear that song, I get reminded.  What still strikes me most in memory is how hard I worked to just keep up with the woman, in terms of social interaction and assumptions. She had quite a more developed set of social interactions mastered than anyone in my peer groups, and way far more developed than me.

My friend skills then were pretty poor. There were places inside me where friends never went, which weren't developed because no one ever went there, and no one ever went there because when they did, they found it empty. Looking back, I can now see, to more extent, how Christina proffered a way of interacting that I couldn't see and couldn't respond because I had not developed that. I had nothing to offer because that space had nothing. 

Today, I like to think that I have some furniture in that space, but it's still sparse. I don't have mementos of all my war stories stacked up to make it interesting, nor have I decorated it in the latest fashion.

If I could go back and change anything, I would have said to her far sooner, "It's going to take me 9-18 months to get through to you, and I have six weeks to do it. I'll be screwing up in your estimation pretty much constantly. I'm still here because keeping up with you will help make me a better person." In my way, in just holding on, in trying and faking it until I made it, I turned myself into a liar. 

I don't pretend that Christina was a saint, because she wasn't, but that intersection between us was worth my time. She stopped talking to me because it wasn't worth hers.

I still miss my friend, even if that friend was an illusion in my head.

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