There's a part of me that still can't believe my friend S is gone. And the thought hits at various points throughout my day, regardless of what I'm doing. And in really thinking about it, I realize that thoughts and memories of her, of our friendship, of her family, have been hovering in the back of my mind pretty much constantly since I heard the news. Its just that every so often, I become fully conscious of a particular thought or memory.
Studying budget figures at work and BAM! I hear her husband telling me she died on Sunday. Driving to the grocery store, going over my list in my mind, and something makes me think of her. We both loved Doritos.
Its not hard for me to get through my daily routines, because we did only see each other maybe once a year, sometimes less, and relied on phone calls and emails in-between. So its not like everything I do or see has memories. Which I guess might be a good thing. I'm grieving, but in a very removed and distant sort of way. Like I wrote the other day, I'm sure the deeper emotions and the tears, will come later; at the funeral services and after seeing her family again.
But what is also strange, is how, it seems for brief moments I can forget the sadness and the memories, while my time and thoughts get taken up with other things.
I had a date over the weekend, before I learned of S's death. He is sweet, nice, a good listener, does things like hold doors and calls when he says he will. I think I like him, but not completely sure yet. The only way I can think to describe it, is that there's no fireworks or real sparks, at this point, (more like embers), and I want to see him a few more times to see if anything will develop.
However, I have to admit that I do find myself waiting for his emails and hoping he'll call again. I was actually upset to find out he's busy this weekend so our next date will have to wait until next weekend.
I was thinking of him this morning on my way to work, wondering if he'd be calling for a weekend date and then trying to analyze the one 3-hour date I had with him. Trying to figure out if I'm interested or not.
I do this to myself all the time, and there are times when I think I am too hard on guys I meet -- expecting them to be completely perfect and writing them off if they fail to meet just one of my standards.
And as I was driving, I could hear S snickering, telling me to just go with it. To stop being so damn hard on these poor guys and give him a chance. "He could be a diamond in the rough" I heard her say, and you'd never know it because he wore sneakers on the first date and you didn't like that.
She had said that once before, when I had gone out with a guy and altho he was nice, I wrote him off for lack of sparks, and a few other things -- like wearing very casual clothes on the first date -- that had, for some reason, really bugged me at the time.
I could also hear her lecturing me: "He's cute, educated, employed, polite, mannerly, he likes you, you kissed him goodnight, you think you might like him -- just go with it for awhile. Its not like there's a half dozen other guys knocking down your door."
And for once, I had to listen and realize she was right. Maybe in the past I have sabotaged myself for fear of being tied down, or losing my freedom. Perhaps my quest for perfection is really my way of ensuring my freedom? Or my safety net? You can't get hurt by other people if you don't let them in, right?
Even in death, S is still a sounding board and still giving great advice. Before, I had almost always listened, agreed that in theory she was right, but then shrugged off her advice as being not right for me at the time. Or, simply giving the advice, because as a married woman, she also wanted to see me married off as well.
This time, S, I'm listening. I'm giving the new guy a chance, despite the fact that he wore shorts and sneakers on our first date, and despite the fact that my stomach didn't do somersaults when we first met face to face.
I'm remembering a conversation we had some time ago, about guys and marriage and dating and my singleness. And you kept saying I expected too much, and I kept saying that I wouldn't settle. And you told me it wasn't settling to accept a guy with faults, or to decide to choose someone based on their potential rather than how perfect they were at the time.
I remember you laughing about a co-worker who joked with her girlfriends, who were so smitten with her fiance, saying, "hey, hands off. I put alot of work into him. You don't think he came out of the box like this, do you?" And you told me that that is what I needed to realize. No man would ever be perfect, I just needed to find one with the right raw materials that I could work with.
And now, reliving that conversation, I'm following your advice. Despite the sneakers and lack of stomach lurching, I have to admit that I do like him, and he's worth spending the time to get to know a little better. And although I almost never would admit this to you before, you're right.
But you already know that. Because I think, even though it sounds ridiculous, that somehow you have a hand in this.
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