This Relationship Limbo

My bestie Julia is hopping on a plane this month and taking a chance on love. I think it's a freggin' awesome idea. I took a similar trip a couple of years ago to the west coast for a guy who turned out to be like all the others - looking for sex and not much else - but the trip was still great.

Two summers ago, on a painfully long cab ride from the city to Long Island, Julia, Christina and I made our way to the Long Island Yacht Club for a party with some guys we had met earlier that week in the Meat Packing District. Cabbie guy had no effing idea where we were going (although we asked him before we left Times Square if he knew where he was going) and so we toured the state of New York. I remained calm while my ladies threw tantrums in the cab. I was thinking, "Fuck! If this dude kicks us out of the cab because these two are bitching at him, we're totally on the 11pm news." They were thinking, "This cabbie is an idiot! I'm going to go ballistic on this guy!"

At a four-way stop, a car pulled up next to us and asked if we were lost. He thought it was strange that an NYC cab was not in the city and figured we needed help. After a brief chat, the guy gave Julia his card and we all went on our merry ways.

Two summers later, Julia and Mike the rescue man are still chatting. In fact, a couple of weeks ago they kicked things up - Julia got a berry - and so they BBM each other incessantly. In Julia's words to me the morning after their marathon phone session, "Oh my God! I'm in love with Mike from New York, but I'm so tired now!" I could not have been more delighted for one of the greatest chicks I've ever known.

Before the calendar changes to August, Julia will go visit Mike in Long Island and take a chance on what they're both feeling: excitement, passion, hope and affection. For me, taking a chance on love is never a bad thing. When I went to visit Surfer Boy in Cali a couple of years ago I knew that things could potentially really suck once I got there, but I also knew that if I didn't go and visit him, I'd always wonder what "could" have happened. We still talk occasionally and I don't regret flying into John Wayne Airport in 2007 to see where things could go with Surfer Boy. The relationship or lack of went nowhere. I wanted something and he didn't and it's fine. It taught me to toughen up if anything.

Sometimes it's tough to know where you stand in a relationship or whether or not your casual dating has moved into relationship status. Silly me, I thought a plane ticket meant relationship, but it only meant sunshine, LA and a lot of shopping on Rodeo Drive. Hopefully, things for Julia and Mike work out differently. I would love nothing more than to hear her voice upon arrival in Toronto telling me that it was the best trip of her life and that she and Mike are 100% in love. That would be fantastic.

This Season of Loving

The first time you turn on your laptop after ending a relationship can be another slap in the face. With the chime of Windows this evening I was visually assaulted with a happy image of me and the boy. We are no longer. I'm just me and he's just him and we will not be sharing my monitor anymore. Now, when I turn on my computer I'll see my smiling face next to one of my bestie's, all aglow on a night downtown.

Sometimes you just know stuff. Sometimes, you knew all along but tried to see otherwise. Sometimes, even when you knew you should have walked away long before, you hung in there and let yourself get hurt again.

I don't want to fill this entry with tears and sorrow. Anguish is my new pal this week, along with Nyquil (I'm fighting a nasty cold), waking up at 4am and schlepping myself to the couch while the birds are still chirping. I haven't allowed myself to rent the latest Hollywood rom-com starring Aniston, Connelly, Cooper and a slew of others because I'm avoiding the whole, "I told you so" vibe. He's not that into me and no matter how many ways I try to spin it, the whole thing sucks and my puffy eyelids can prove how torn up I am over it.

I thought I'd have better news and more cheerful entries for an eternity. Instead, you might be filling yourselves up on my bitterness, torment, shredded heart and feverish tears. The boy joked, "Don't write nasty things about me in your blog" and I won't. Not because I don't think he deserves having his asshole behaviour splayed across the net, but because I'm hesitant to do something in this state that I'll regret later. When the tears dry up and "those" songs don't stir my insides like vinegar and baking soda, I'll likely wish I didn't call him those names and stick those pins into the voodoo doll I named after him. I'll let my girlfriends do the hating, while I do the wallowing and then one day I'll be back to bliss.

Speak soon my sweets :)