Distraction

I had called his bluff. After many mentions of getting together, meeting for a drink or coffee, I contacted him out of the blue, telling him I was around the corner. Thirty minutes later we were walking towards another bar, virtually strangers.

We must have made and interesting couple. Me in my two inch too long jeans and north face fleece and him in his pretty mahogany colored leather jacket and spiky hair, arms linked, trotting through the public garden. Scrubby girl meets Mr. Metrosexual.

It was our first meeting in six months. He said there was something different about me, but wasn't sure what it was. I hope it was the new highlights and not the sadness. It can creep up on me, drawing my face down. He said I was more animated than he remembered. It was for both our sakes.

Some how we ended up on a feather bed on his fire escape. It was perfect, just what the doctor ordered good conversation and banter. It was nice to just laugh, to feel like I was doing something a little more spontaneous than usual. The view of the sky was amazing for being in the city, even stars were spotted. I couldn't help but wonder how many other girls were impressed by this set up, I didn't care.

There were no promises of another meeting, of calls or plans while I was leaving. Just another kiss, a couple more laughs and a wave.

For now, it was the perfect encounter.

Lost

G and I broke up. Right before I left SD to come home.

I'm confused and directionless and hurting.

And last night I made out with another man. Whatever it takes I guess. It did help a little.

Nothing like being kissed on a fire escape by a dashing doctor to lift the spirits. If only temporary.

Sick

I haven't felt compelled by anything lately. Nothing to write about. I think the end of this cold is making me lethargic about everything. I wish I could just take a day off to do absolutely nothing, but I know it would just make it worse because I would have to come in and deal with my assistant's ineptness. Assistants are supposed to assist. Mine makes more work.

At least I only have 5 more days until I get a vacation!

Pregnant in Oregon

If I lived my life for other people, I'm pretty sure I would be married, possibly pregnant and living in Oregon.

I met C a week after I turned 23. He was a friend of a friend wanting to move back to San Diego after living in Oregon for 2 years and I was in desperate need of a roommate. We connected first over the phone, discussing where we would want to live, each others quirks, likes and dislikes and our histories. Soon he was making plans to come visit, the flirting intensified and the roommate discussion dissolved into banter and sexual innuendos.

I found different roommates and a great place to live, he was still in Oregon with a plan to visit. The connection was instant and it was easy to be together. It was the ease with which we connected that floored me. It was the distance that confused me. What's a little distance when you share such a great connection? It should be worth it right?

Our relationship was based on the idea that he was moving back to San Diego, but after a year that fact seemed to be pushed to the back-burner and we were just coasting along in a painful long distance relationship, living for the next weekend we would get to see each other. C was my first love, but even now I question if it was true or if it was the desire to be loved, to have someone in my life. When we did get along it was great, but mostly we bickered. C was argumentative at best, combative at worst. Sometimes just talking to him was exhausting, and talking was the pretty much the foundation of our relationship.

Almost a year into our relationship I decided I was stalled and needed to do something to open more doors career-wise. I started to look at masters programs. I had two choices: to enroll in the program at The University of Oregon in Eugene, which was still two hours away from C, or Boston University.

Nothing felt right about Oregon, even his requests for me to just move up there to be with him, felt right. I felt he had backed out on our deal. He was supposed to move to San Diego. San Diego was neutral. I chose BU. I moved back to Boston in June and our relationship was over in January.

He had asked me to move there to be with him, but I couldn't do it and therefore signed the death certificate of our relationship. He's getting married in August, I'm happy for him, its what he wanted.

I think of this because I get the impression that when I tell people that I am thinking of moving back to San Diego, they immediately draw the conclusion that it is because of G. Where as G is a factor, he is not the reason. I knew in my gut that moving to Oregon would not be for me. San Diego is only about me. Something about that place just grabbed on and won't let go. I'm at a good point in my life to give in to the desire to just be there again.

Everyday I am thankful that I am not pregnant in Oregon.