how do you recover from being dumped over the phone–from 2000 miles away? Thursday, July 10 2008

apparently, Sex in the City and cookie dough.

I called my very dear and always supportive friend Leona and told her what had happened.  Of course she responded, “Thank God! He didn’t treat you right anyway.”  Now, Leona had only met Dennis once, but like many others, had heard my stories.

randomly, i think we all know that women are much more vocal about the bad things their men do.  unless there’s jewelry involved, i suppose.  but Dennis had often fallen victim to people not liking him because of my bad stories.  women should share more good stories.  especially if you have even the smallest desire that your friends like him.

Leona took me to Red Rocks, then to a casino, and then back to her place for a Sex and the City marathon and a lot of cookie dough.

that last month was amazing. Saturday, January 5 2008

so i was moving across the country. 

i spent my last three weeks packing up 10 years worth of stuff.  i made a deal with myself that if something cost more to move than it did to buy, i wasn’t taking it.  this ended up being most of my stuff since i was an avid Goodwill furniture buyer.  i donated over 1000 articles of clothing to Goodwill. 

in between the packing, i was trying to say goodbye to my friends and just generally have a good time.  Dennis and i were truly in love.  we’d had a huge argument in the middle of March, which was partly due to some ridiculous overreactions (both of us).  looking back, i also think that Dennis was really uncomfortable with the prospect of my leaving.  i wasn’t perceptive enough to realize how my decision to apply and take a job across the country affected Dennis.  once we knew i was leaving, arguing was not an option.

we spent the month just loving wach other.  we spent a lot of time together.  i spent a lot of time reassuring him that we would be okay. 

there was a wonderful night that we met up after work, walked home, went for sushi, got some wine, and went home.  we had had a long standing monday night date to eat dinner, watch tv, and spend the night at his apartment.  this particular monday, we did all of those things, but there was so much love in the air.  we were intermittently watching tv, talking, and having sex.  at some point we were wrestling and i used my ninja skills to get his forefinger and thumb and said, “don’t make me snap you in half!“  appropriately, we started howling.  laughing uncontrolably.  it is one of my fondest memories from that month.

the other is of the night we actually and completely realized what was happening to us.  one of the local universities has a huge carnival event every spring with rides, food, concerts, and other fun.  they usually bring in a big-name act for at least one of the concerts.  that year it was the Shins.  Dennis and i were both excited to see them and they put on a great show.  it was a little chilly and i was standing with Dennis’ arms wrapped around me.  they started playing ”New Slang”–a song that we later referred to as “the tearjerker”–and the mood of the song moved us both.  we stood there and cried in each other’s arms.  i’ve never been in love as much as that moment. 

The last few days were a little crazy.  i was sending most of my stuff to the west coast via Amtrak and had to time it so that my stuff wouldn’t sit anywhere for too long (they charge for storage).  i stayed with my mom the last week i was home, and it was difficult to be in the ‘burbs, mostly because it meant being much farther from my friends than i was used to.  the night before i left, i had a wonderful going-away party.  you never know how much you’ll miss your friends until you’re leaving.  Dennis spent the night with me at my mom’s.  we took the last load of stuff to Amtrak in the morning and dropped him off at his apartment.  it was raining, and we stood in his doorway for several moments.  there was crying, kissing, two declarations of love, and a long hug.

Dennis later said that we should have broken up before i left.   

the Beehive. Wednesday, December 12 2007

I love this story.

like i said, I’d spent what seemed like forever trying to get the attention of this warm, scruffy music seller that i worked with.  i strutted past the music desk every chance i got and i even made a rule in the café that i was the only staffer allowed to take out the garbage because it meant walking by the music desk.  how many girls do you know who’ll do that for ya’?

so, finally, in January of 1999, Dennis asks me if i’d like to get some coffee after class.  i tried to remain calm, and i might have succeeded for as long as it took me to get from the music desk to the café.  then i started screaming and jumping up and down like a contestant on the Price is Right.  Dennis later told me that he heard every word of my excitement from across the building.

the next morning i head off to class, looking cute in jeans and a sweater, wearing my favorite winter shoes.  now, it must be mentioned that i have a penchant for falling.  i have a weak ankle that gives out every once in a while.  there’s foreshadowing for ya’.

after class, i met Dennis at the designated corner on campus and we walked to the Beehive.  the Beehive was this old old old theater that had been turned into the second location of a local coffeehouse.  i have a special place in my heart for the original Beehive because it was one of the places i spent my nights as a teen.  i think they were open 24/7.  i would steal my mom’s car in the middle of the night and drive my friends to the coffeehouse to play cards or just sit and talk.  later, when the second locale opened up, we made friends with the baristas and would hang out there all night.  at fifteen, i had a short romance with an artist named Andrew who cleaned the theater at night in exchange for a place to paint and rehearse (he played several instruments).  he seduced me with his serenades more than once, with multiple instruments and his many talents.  but that was many years before this date.

by this time, the Beehive had expanded to include a bar and a smoking lounge on the upper floor.  so we went in, ordered our coffee, and headed upstairs–Dennis was smoking at that time.

there was a long flight of stairs interrupted midway by a landing.  i had ordered a café au lait.  what this meant for me was that i had a short, wide, completely filled ceramic cup of coffee.  i was most worried about spilling it all over myself.  what i did not envision was the edge of my shoe catching on one of the stairs on our way up.

in slow motion, the line of my ankle, then knee, then hip, then ribs, elbow, and forehead all reached down to meet the incline of the staircase.  i actually had time to think “this cannot be happening.”  at the end of the fall, i rested my forehead on the stair in closest proximity and then set my coffee on the landing. what i’m proud of is that through the whole event, i didn’t spill a drop of coffee…years of coffeehouse training.

i looked up and Dennis was on the landing.  without a laugh, smile, or smirk, he reached his hand down and asked if i was okay.  i think i fell in love with him at that very moment.

i would fall many more times…and eventually there was laughing…but not that first time.

Millerama. Wednesday, December 5 2007

Rick confused me more than any other crush i’d had to that point in my life.

when he kissed me, i really thought it meant that he was interested.  i’m naive enough to think that.   i’m romantic enough to think that.

so i went home all smiley.  it didn’t occur to me that there was a future for that relationship; i came home to Dennis and, of course, Rick and i were a continent apart.  so i just kind of reveled in the satisfaction of being interesting to someone cute.

a day or two after i got home, i sent out an email, via Alan, that said thanks for a great time.  none of the others knew me before the trip, so i thought it was wonderful that they were so welcoming.  literally 8 minutes after i sent it, Rick responded:

“Hey Melissa,

I’m glad you wrote, for some reason (my stupidity, perhaps) I didn’t
save your phone number after entering it.

It was great meeting you, hanging out and talking, and finding out the
easy way what it feels like to have a piercing in your mouth.

i’m actually listening to Air right now, the company I’m working for
has a 500,000 song library which is rather nice, so if you have any
suggestions for me to look up, I might be able to listen to them here.
I’ve forgotten all your suggestions already, (which I would have done
even if it wasn’t 7am) take no offense.

Send me your address, and i can send that CD.

I hope you have a great summer, and I’ll be curious to hear if you flee
the country to Montreal or head to Chicago.

Take care,
Rick

now, i know that there is no declaration of love in this email.  but it is a little flirty.  after some back and forth mostly about music, i eventually received a package.  there were two cds inside a handmade envelope.  the first three songs on the cd were all about sex and love.  the artists were Heather Duby, Interpol, the Postal Service, and it even had Belle and Sebastian’s “Dirty Dream Number Two’.

everyone who listened to the cd said it was one giant flirtfest.  men women boys girls.  everyone.

i sent an email that said the cd was great; sexy and wonderful.  and i asked him if he meant anything by the songs he chose.  he responded:

“Hello again,

I’m glad you liked the music. I wish I could take credit for all of it, but
I’m just the guy with a CD burner. I think I’d be hard-pressed to match that
myself, since I basically pulled all my favorite songs (for now) together
for one CD, it seems like that well is tapped for now.

As for the messages that could be interpreted, I was thinking of adding a
disclaimer when I sent the discs, but I forgot. I just went back and
listened to some of the music, and I can see how there could be something I
was trying to say, but it just happens to be music I enjoy. I have a
tendency to not pay attention to lyrics, and make up my own words. I guess
this could get me into trouble…”

ahhh.  foiled again.

so at this point, i was feeling a little led on.  i really liked him, that was the problem.  i wanted it to happen.  but again, this is obviously going nowhere, right?

and looking back, i’m not sure if i was unhappy in my relationship with Dennis or not…nothing sticks out.  i may have been more unhappy in my Pittsburgh life than anything.  in my youth, i’d spent many years traveling and was rarely sedentary.  in my early adulthood, it never would have scared me to pick up at a moments notice and move to a place where i didn’t know a soul.  by this time, i’d been in Pittsburgh for over 5 years.  and i didn’t see a way out.  until Vegas.  meeting all of those people made me realize that there were places better suited to me than Pittsburgh.  Rick may have just been the embodiment of that energy.

so i go out to Seattle, looking fantastic by the way (i lost 20 lbs that summer).  and you know this already…i went to the beach, did Bumbershoot.  i saw Rick twice.  both times he had his new girlfriend in tow.   and both times i got that weird feeling that i was being sized up.  i have no sense of whether that’s true.  he may be a natural flirt.  i know i am and i’m probably wired to pick up on those signals even if they aren’t there. 

we continued to email through the fall.  mostly about music.  it tapered off.

what i’ve realized about my millerama episode is that it stirred me up and instigated a series of life-changing events.  i got restless.   i started to question what i really wanted in life, i started questioning where i belonged, and i decided that it wasn’t Pittsburgh.  you’ll find that funny by the end of the story.
 

and now…Dennis. Tuesday, November 13 2007

the short history is as follows:

Dennis and i met while working in one of the major bookstores.  he worked in music and i worked in the café.  he was a warm, sensitive type with a scruffy face and really beautiful eyes.  he also liked black metal, the riverdales, the cure,  and tori amos.  what can i say…i like ‘em complex.

i tried (completely unsuccessfully) to play it cool for 6 months.  he finally asked me to get a cup of coffee on January 23, 1999.  see aside, the Beehive. 

the first two years were tumultuous at best.  he was wrangling feelings for several exes, dealing with an untreated clinical depression, some drug use, etc.  and didn’t introduce me, or even refer to me, as his girlfriend.  we just spent 5 nights a week together…you know, as friends.

the next two years were literally a roller coaster.  i honestly believe we “broke up” every six to eight weeks, mostly because he “couldn’t handle it”.   there was a lovely (read: horrible and embarrasing) incident at the Library, some wonderful (read: fabulous) trips to Chicago, Boston, NYC, Montreal, Toronto, and more.  we liked to travel.   

in spring of 2004, before the Vegas trip, i explained that i thought we should break up for real.  he was 29 and living at home–his mother still did his laundry, paid his bills, and cooked for him, and he had no driver’s license.  i told him that i loved him, but that i needed him to grow up.  if that couldn’t happen, then we shouldn’t bother continuing our relationship.

he responded with, “so you want to break up because i never took home-ec?!” 

that’s the kind of guy he was.  there was a short period of vague i-hate-you-ness (this is where the Vegas trip falls), followed by an eventual reunion.  this would basically bring us up-to-date.

in my opinion, he treated me pretty badly those first years, and truthfully, i don’t know why i stayed.  i thought we were meant to be.  the worst part is that he was so inconsistent in his affections that when he did fall in love with me, i thought it wouldn’t last.  i absolutely didn’t get it.  i constantly anticipated the next breakup, or at least the next book-throwing argument, and it caused me to rehash his bad moments over and over again.  i didn’t believe in his love until it was too late.

since i’ll probably say lots of mean things about Dennis,  i’ll say this:  i love(d)  him deeply. 

he is a genius, and when he wants to be, he’s warm, sensitive, loyal, caring, and sweet.  there is a lot of love and a lot of anger in him; they make him one of the most passionate people i’ve ever met.  he is unique in a world of carbon copies, and i will always miss him.

let’s get back to the story.