missed connection (again) and other news

I went to the Ghost Trolley (see second half of second paragraph in 10/23 entry-'a new perspective, and a busy few days') tonight but Bill wasn't there.

I'm starting to think it's some kind of conspiracy, him always being absent when I go there. However, it is helping me to create some detachment from him. If he gets me pissed off enough I won't want to be around him anymore. I do need closure, though. Which means I will continue to visit the Museum until I can talk with Bill and hear his side of that fateful event back at MTS.

Umm, what else, what else.

This coming Sat, the 4th, is Messengers' final rehearsal (our final performance and then cast party is on the 5th). My inevitable opportunities with Dave are dwindling. Hopefully he'll do something, anything, to let me know we're ok before Messengers disbands until spring of '07. He has to make the first move. He's asked me (indirectly) to keep my distance, I'm doing that. I pretty much forfeited my privilege of freely conversing with him when I scared him with my obsessive behavior. *Sigh* God, this sucks. Stupid! Stupid! I see now, like with Ed, that I can keep my mouth shut and it's alright. No harm, no foul. But of course, hindsight is 20/20 as they say.

In other news, though related, my dad is having lunch with Dave tomorrow. Before all this happened, I had told Dave about suspicions I had that my dad may be fooling around on my mom. I know, not earth-shattering in today's world, but it was a big deal to me at the time. So Dave told me he'd ask my dad about it real subtle like. Maybe that's what this lunch meeting is partly about. Or, maybe Dave will ask if Dad knows what a kook he has in a daughter.

I may get a talking to tomorrow.

Baby Steps

Since I'm writing this in the AM of Mon. the 30th but talking about the evening of Sun. the 29th, some tenses may get goofy. Bear with me.

Sunday evening, Messengers had a performance. As was of course inevitable, Dave was there. However, I must be doing something right because he at least acknowledged my presence. I was on my way out of the sanctuary, he was on his way in with a cart-load of props. I had my head down, content to pass by as usual, but he surprised me with, "Hey, (and he added my name which I prefer not to post here)." Within the space of two seconds I debated on asking him, "Oh, are you talking to me now?" but immediately decided against it and just answered with a noncommittal, "Hey," almost as an afterthought in passing.

On the one hand, it's a start. No fireworks or happily ever after, but that's not real life. On the other hand, the fact that I'm making a bigger deal of this than it should be shows in itself that I still have a fixation issue. But, considering I haven't had steady contact with Bill for 5-plus years and I'm still stuck on him, things are actually speeding along quite nicely with Dave. I think I'm about halfway (to being over Dave). I do still really want to just be around him, but I'm getting to the point where it's not life and death if I don't see him. If he were to suggest I could come over and talk, even just to Renee, I'd probably say no (though it would curl me up inside) because I can see more clearly now that I do have a problem.

And we all know the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. (Not just for alcoholics anymore.)

an apple to an orange?

Why is it that I can I be just friends with Ed but not Dave? Is it only because the situation with Dave has rearranged my perceptions and definitions of 'friendship', thus redefining my expectations? Not entirely I think, though that is part of the equation (as it will be with any relationship from now on). Even before this, I haven't felt the fateful wanting of 'something more' or the need to explain myself to Ed. Perhaps it's because he is more like my own dad than Dave is, which makes it easier for me to be at ease around him.

As with my dad, Ed and I are buddies. We talk and joke, and we can come and go from each other's presence without my panicking. The only way I can explain this is that when Ed leaves, I trust that I'll see him again. Maybe it's because he's more informal, more casual, than Dave is. Ed is single, he doesn't work (he lives on a pension) but that doesn't mean he's idle, he shares a small basement apartment with his grown son, and he pretty much comes and goes as he pleases. Dave, on the other hand, is married, has a job that he goes to every day, a house to maintain, and four young children and a teenage daughter living at home.

Looking at it like this it seems to be no contest, and I'm wondering why I didn't see it before. However, if I'd attached myself to Ed in the first place, it might have been him that I had now estranged myself from. Given the choice, I'd rather have Ed.

a new perspective on an old friend

Every morning when I wake up I try and have no expectations for the rest of the day, for obvious reasons. Some of them can really suck. But today turned into a really good day. I made a new friend*, so Dave can just kiss my ass.

First, I went to a local blood drive sponsored by Memorial Blood Centers here in the Twin Cities (MN) and gave blood, my first time ever. It wasn't a thrill, but it was interesting. For a little while after I left I was afraid my arm would start spurting if I wasn't careful, but so far so good. Second, I caught the bus to the MN Trolley Museum hoping to connect with Bill, but no luck. *Sigh* That man is harder to get ahold of than a greased watermelon. So after I rode the trolley, I caught the bus up to my church (an hour and a half early) and just hung out.

Now this is where the 'really good' part of the day comes in. After service the plan was to get a friend of mine (another Messenger) to give me a ride home. Instead he (yes he) invites me to dinner. The first question, given my present circumstances with Dave, was, "at your place?" He said yes, and that there would be a bunch of guys ("well, not a bunch, just one") there. Relieved at the mention of another person present (a witness) I accepted.

His name is Ed, he's 53 (I think), and he's a talker (which is perfect because I'm a listener). In that 2 plus hours during dinner, he talked almost without stop, but I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. I don't remember much of the conversation, even though he was telling some personal stuff for a lot of it, because I have discovered, post-Dave, that it's not so much what Ed says but that he says it, that he trusts me enough to be that open.

It's good to have a friend again.



*The American Heritage College Dictionary (1997) defines 'friend' as: a person whom one knows, likes and trusts

best intentions backfired

I said this weekend would be busy. I didn't get a chance to write yesterday and now I only have time for a quick note before I head out the door, not to return until 9p tonight.

As much as I say the Dave situation is over and done, it isn't. Being around him and his family filled a gap, a need in my existence. Now that he has forcibly extricated himself from that position, I find myself stuck on him more now than before. Whenever I see him at church I steal quick glances in his direction. I get apprehensive if he leaves the room (possibly never to return). The worst thing you can do to an obsessive is take away the object of their obsession because then they become more frantic to hold onto whatever they can that's left.

Dave, as much as you thought it would be a good idea, cutting me off was a bad move. You'll never get rid of me now.

Familial advice

I emailed my sister the other day for some advice on the present situation. She's been through some of the same shit as me (though not quite to my extreme) so I figured, what the hell.

She advised me that the best thing for me to do is back off completely, no e-mail, no phone calls, definitely no hanging out. Not even talking with Renee for awhile. She said it sucks, but nobody likes it when people get clingy, not even friends.

Fuck!!

Sorry, I've had a lot of built up angst this past week. Had to get that out.

So, that's that, the 'friendship' between Dave and I is kaput. Shit.

Gratitude and Regret

I just lost my train of thought, where the hell was I?

Oh yes, I remember now.

Dave, I would like to thank you for solidifying once and forever that my therapist is the only person I can talk to about what goes on in my head. As much as I planned and thought out what I said to you, it still didn't work. Also, what happened between us has made me appreciate other 'not-quite-freindships' and realize that they will very likely never be what I want them to be, but that I should enjoy them nonetheless.

I would also like to apologize. I'm sorry it had to be you that taught me this lesson because I would liked to have remained friends, and I don't know if that's possible now. You're one of the good guys, a great dad and loving husband (which seems to be a rarity these days).

Thank you for the books
Thank you for your time
Thank you for the best of intentions

I'm sorry I didn't see the forest for the trees.

I'll miss our talks.

A new perspective (and a busy few days)

Back home safe and sound. The Dave situation turned out to be no problem at all. On the way up he and I rode in separate vehicles, and he had to skip out of the return trip in order to renew his passport for a future Messengers trip overseas. While there, of course, I kept my eyes down and my mouth shut, which seemed to be fine with Dave.

This week I have essentially three days to myself: Tue., Wed, and Thur. Fri, the 27th is a rehearsal day; Sat nite is regular church; Sun the 29th is a performance nite; Mon I have another appointment with my therapist; and Tues. is Halloween, which is my best chance for connecting with Bill at the Trolley Museum (every year they run a Ghost Trolley ride on the Fri, Sat, and Sun before Halloween, and also on Halloween nite).

On the way back from Canada I was thinking about something my therapist said to me about a month ago. He said that if someone doesn't want to talk to me or get to know me, their loss. I need to stop seeing this as my problem alone, that if I had kept my mouth shut everything would be rainbows and butterflies. Short of having a sit-down conversation with Renee, I've done what I can to try and explain myself to Dave. If he can't lighten up a little and try to see both sides here, maybe he doesn't deserve my friendship instead of the other way around.

Sometime on one of my free days I need to call Renee and ask when we can talk. I'll call earlier in the day in order to minimize the chances of Dave answering. That would just set me off all over again.

Off to Canada! (to return in one piece?)

Sunday (tomorrow) I am traveling with the Messengers (the church drama group) up to Thunder Bay, Canada for a performance. We leave at 6 am, get there around 1:30 pm, eat a quick meal, set up, and put the show on. Normally I would be all nervous like because I've only been out of the country once before (which was also to Canada) and this is a completely new production. However, this whole thing with Dave is taking up so much brain time and space that I have little room for any other anxieties that would otherwise occur in a situation like this. Even Bill has pretty much vacated the arena at this point. The resulting effect of Dave and I being in such close proximity to each other for those many hours, both up there and back, will be interesting to see and experience. I doubt it will be anything dramatic. We'll probably continue to purposely avoid each other. Him because he doesn't want to encourage me in any way, and me because he has asked with every non-verbal cue that he wishes to remain at arm's length (or further if possible).

So I've already established that Dave won't talk to me. I think I'll have to just bite the bullet (swallow my pride?) and talk to Renee instead. The thought of that conversation makes me sneer in distaste, not only because I would much rather speak to Dave directly since this problem is between him and myself, but also because she has a softness and an unpleasant lilt to her voice that almost makes you think she has no backbone, that she can't stand up for herself. With many of her sentences that should be declarative (ending in a period) she adds a rising tone at the end which makes it into a question, like she's asking for your approval with everything she says. It makes it hard to listen to her for longer than a minute or so.

It's maddening when all that Dave will accept from me is a polite 'excuse me' when I need to pass by, that if I asked sincerely to just talk in an attempt at explanation, he'd defer to Renee in his lowest audible tone of voice. Yes, part of me knows that I brought this on myself. If I'd only kept my mouth shut I wouldn't be in this predicament. But then then another side pipes up with, 'But Dave said he was 'safe', dammit!. How was I supposed to know he'd get too freaked out to hear the entire story?'

Indeed, how was I supposed to know?

Crash & Burn-and a possible shift in loyalty

Dave was avoiding me last night, which is understandable given his false perceptions. But when I got his attention to try and give him my note (he was standing with Renee) he said,"You'll have to give it to her (indicating Renee)." And he said it in such a low tone of voice it's like he didn't even want to speak to me. Now I gotta say, Dave, that was just rude.

Hopefully after reading the note he'll have a bit of a change of heart. If not I'm afraid he may end up on the other side with Bill. Trust me, that's not somewhere he wants to be. I'd rather he not be there either because I do want him as a friend not an enemy (though that is probably too strong a word; it would be obsession but in the way that Dave now fears). I think in order to understand where it is Dave may be headed, I need to explain more about Bill and where he was versus where he is now.

In 1997, when I was 15, I started attending MN Transitions Charter Highschool in Mpls. It's a small school, not only in the size of the studentry but also in square footage. The teachers were very personable and let the students call them by their first names. Bill was the History/Geography teacher. He also taught some Special Ed. later on during my time there.

I don't recall what exactly it was that made me take an interest in Bill specifically. Maybe it was his age, maybe it was because he played Gershwin and Rachmaninov during class. I think it was because, like Dave, he didn't talk in sound bytes. He meant what he said and he really listened when I talked. He also helped me realize there's more to life than my own screwed up family. Whatever the reason, I was hooked, and for a while things were ok. Sometimes Bill would let me hang out in his room after school and we'd just talk (kind of informal therapy).

Then, as with Dave, I began wanting 'something more'. (Part of me says I don't know what 'just friends' means, but I think I just don't recognize it or am not satisfied with it when I do have it.) Now remember, at that time I felt there was something missing but I wouldn't have been able to describe it if you threatened me with a branding iron. When I approached Bill with the possibility of him being a kind of surrogate Dad, somewhere in the jumbled mess of my reasoning I knew for a fact that he wouldn't. But just the faintest sliver of a possibility made me go ahead anyway against my better judgement (just like with Dave). I gotta stop listening to those.

When Bill said,"I can't." without any explanation, it was at that moment that he went from a possible friend and mild obsession in a good way (if there really is such a thing) to the eventual object of my vengeful fantasies. The difference, I no longer liked him. You may be saying, 'What difference does that make?' but others like me will understand. The difference between a 'good' obsession and a 'bad' one is whether or not you like them. I've heard there's a difference between liking say, a family member, and loving them. The same is true of the obsessee. Obsession is what it is, not much changes that. But the flavor of the situation can change dramatically depending on whether you like them or not.

So that is what I'm hoping Dave does not become. I think the reason there's still a chance of friendship with him is because I've matured a bit in my views of friendship. Plus, Dave didn't slam the door quite as hard as Bill. I also haven't had six years to ruminate on the offense. So here's hopin, more for your sake, Dave, than mine.

the object of this problem

I meant to write this yesterday, but I was out of town with my Dad. Not a huge deal. I just prefer to write every day if possible. That way I stay in touch with the mood of the subject at hand.

The mood right now is a little panicked, a little eager, maybe a little confident. I have all but finished 'the note' and am feeling good with the result. The confrontation and possible outcome is what has me nervous. I just have to remember that this isn't all my doing. Dave said he was 'safe', dammit. There were misjudgments on both of our parts, which is why I shouldn't feel like I have to cower in a corner (but I probably will anyway after I hand off 'the note').

Maybe now is a good time for some more backstory.

The first time I can remember seeing Dave was about seven years ago, I think. At that time I was living in Mpls and he and his family moved in down the street on the next block. They were actually in the process of moving, nobody was living in the house yet. I don't recall how I came to be at the house, I just remember helping Dave and his oldest son to paint one of the upstairs bedrooms. Now, I probably saw him around church before that, but there was no reason for it to register.

The next time he pops up in my memory is when I saw him in one of the first productions of this church drama group that I am now part of. I'll let you put two and two together to figure out why I let myself get pulled into involvement. He's not the whole reason, but a big part of it.

So from that time until late Jan of '06 I was content to stay on the outskirts of his perception. Truth be told, I was scared of him (he says he gets that a lot). He seemed like he always knew what to say. And he never talked in sound-bytes (shallowly), he said what he meant and meant what he said (to the extent of his knowledge of the situation). Because of this, it took me a year to 'work up the courage' to ask Dave for a sit-down conversation. The topics of discussion were fear, distrust, and my dad. It was during that conversation that Dave said to me, "You want someone to talk to who's.....safe. I'm safe, Renee (his wife) is safe." He said that it might be better if I did talk to his wife. That's when I felt some intuitive hintings of his wanting to be cautious (I call it the Red Flag feeling) because of the potential possibility of the inappropriateness of the situation.

Well here we are, smack-dab in the middle of a possibility. But like I said, there's fault on both sides.

Trepidation

I'm going to be seeing Dave on Thursday. It's inevitable, we're both part of a drama group at our church. That is where my therapist suggested I give him the afore-mentioned note, hand it to him personally so I'll be sure he reads it. But even if the note goes directly from my hand to his, there's still no guarantee he'll read it. Or, like my therapist says, if he reads it there's no guarantee he'll respond favorably.

This whole situation is fucked. What in the world made me think Dave would be open to me sharing something like this? I mean Goddamn, he's just an engineer. He's not a counselor, or a teacher, or a pastor. He's a regular guy just trying to get through his own shit without too much of it sticking. It's not fair to me to be stuck in this shit-hole of a life, but it's even less fair to Dave for me to think I can go dumping my problems in his lap.

Maybe it was intentional, my blowing our potential friendship to quivering smithereens. I'm starting to think that on some subconscious level I did this unthinkable thing on purpose. I knew I was scared, sure. Who isn't when venturing into unknown territory? But I was so certain that Dave would understand what I was trying to say. Maybe I overestimated him or my own ability to adequately articulate my mind's inner workings. Either way I have got one hell of a mess to deal with. I didn't say fix because at this point that doesn't look doable. I can only write my little note and hope to God Dave hasn't set his new view of me in stone.

God, I am so screwed.

Not only did I tell Dave too much too soon, I wasn't clear about what I did say. So now he probably has some half-assed assumption that somewhere in the back of my mind I want him to leave his wife for me. Dear God, no. The last thing I want is to get married, even if it were to him. Any 'romantic' aspect of this relationship (however that may be classified) is more of an infatuation, like a little girl mooning over her older sister's boyfriend.

When Dave asked if I was obsessed with him in a romantic way, I answered yes because I wanted to be truthful. But that is NOT the whole story. If you've read my previous entries you know there's a lot of background shit in the mix. Unfortunately I wasn't able to elaborate on that history at the time of the ill-fated conversation, and now Dave won't talk to me.

My therapist (oh, don't look so surprised) suggested I write Dave a short explanatory note in an effort to clear up any misunderstandings. My fear is that whatever I say will be read with a preconceived bias that Dave has developed. I was always afraid of raising a red flag with Dave. Well I'm sure by now he's built himself a goddamned fortress based on misinformed opinion.

Like I said, I am so, so screwed.

foiled attempt

Maybe I'm being naive, but I called him (his name is David) yesterday to try and smooth things out. He wouldn't take my call. His wife (yes he's married, and early 40's if I hadn't mentioned it before) said that they had talked and both decided it would "be a good idea to limit contact." In other words, 'You're not welcome over here anymore you crazy freak.'

Lovely. Now instead of him just thinking I'm a little odd around the edges, he's afraid of me. I doubt he would ever admit that (he would most likely use the word concerned) but that's what it is, plain and simple. After almost a year and a half of observing him and interacting with him, I thought he was ready. He himself told me he was 'safe' to talk to, meaning that he wouldn't be quick to judge. I guess he just didn't know what he was getting himself into.

To kill a 'friendship'

I've had this blog (under various names) since March of '05, but have not had any real use for it. For my journaling I prefer to write longhand, particularly since I suck at typing. But today I did something.....not good. I killed a friendship that had no real right to have that done to it other than I couldn't keep my personal issues out of it.

Now, this isn't (wasn't) a peer friendship with someone my own age. I haven't had one of those since 4th grade. Having been consistently teased in school (since practically the fourth grade) I became more able to interact with adults. However, even though I am technically an adult, I have never formed what could be called friendships (whatever 'they' may say) because I don't trust anyone enough to form that kind of connection, much to my detriment I'm finding.

On top of this 'lack-of-trust/not-really-friendships' issue is a case of Absent Father Syndrome. When I was growing up my dad was present but not involved. The whole 'there but not there' thing. Not to say he was out gambling, drinking, and whoring. He wasn't. He just didn't seem to care whether I was there or not. The way I tried to fill this gap was looking for a 'surrogate Dad'.

Now technically I wasn't even able to articulate this need (wasn't really aware it existed) until Highschool. That's where I met Bill, my history/geography teacher. He was everything my dad wasn't: smart, intelligent, witty without being stupid about it, cultured, and most important at that time, he showed concern about me, he noticed me. Now before the red flag goes up about student/teacher involvement, Bill would have none of that. I would know because I broached the subject of a surrogate Dad and he replied a resounding 'No', end of discussion. At the time I didn't know of the Teacher/Student Policy which states that anything beyond friendship should be avoided. In other words, get too close (even with the most noble of intentions) and the school could be facing a sexual harassment suit from pissed off, overprotective parents. So I'm sure it was a CYOA sort of rejection not intended to be personal. Well that's not how it felt.

It may seem I'm straying from the subject at hand, but bear with me.

Before the brutal (but hopefully unintentional) stomping flat of the pathetically proffered heart, I became fixated on Bill as the solution to my problems. After said stomping, instead of looking elsewhere I became obsessed with Bill. I have never gone so far as stalking, but not for lack of research, just accurate info (and the funds needed to produce it). This obsession has become the norm with anyone new I meet who evokes the same feelings as Bill did/does. These obsessees are always men, usually around 55 years old (but one (the 'friendship' I just killed) is early 40's, whereas Bill is now, I believe, early 60's), most often with either graying to white hair. They also have an air of calm about them, a quality of unpretentious wisdom.

But like I said, I don't have friendships. I have barely better than a nodding acquaintanceship with those I am not obsessed with.

But getting back to the killed friendship.

Over the past few months, almost as long as I really started talking to this person, I've been collecting odds-and-ends, things he's thrown away or little off-hand things he's given me (without any other intention than being nice). I've kept them in a Converse shoe-box, each with a short description of how I came by it and the date on which I got it.

Unfortunately for me I all of a sudden developed a wanting for "something more". I wanted a real friend instead of just an object of obsession. Good friendships don't have secrets, at least not the kind I was keeping. So I did the only thing I could think of, I told him of my obsession with him. In addition to telling him everything, I gave him the box and all its contents.

Even after the fact of this full disclosure, the only reason I can come up with for spilling my guts is this: He's never been anything but kind and supportive and friendly to me. I at the very least owe him some fucking honesty. Secret obsessions and inappropriate intentions on my part are not conducive to friendship of any kind. If I can't be honest with him about my motives and then make a damn strong effort to get them under control, I don't deserve his friendship.