Friday, March 18, 2005

Quick Recovery

I went to Shagaussie's going away party on Wednesday. It was so much fun. Swiss Alps, Maussie and M. Biologique and I left at around 4-ish along with the other 20 people or so (including super hot, half-Asian, thinks I'm funny, Ollie). Maussie and Swiss Alps split to go home, so M. Biologique and I were left alone. I suggested we go sit down at the 24-hour Second Cup. We talked and talked until he said ...

"Is that why you climbed into my bed?"

And boy did he open up a can of worms.


I woke up at NorIda's. Shoulders slumped, eyes glazed over, I practiced my internal monologue to perfection. I would mention how he and I couldn't go on being friends, that I felt betrayed and humiliated, that I no longer trusted him, that we couldn't go back to being acquaintances - it wasn't even an option - because everything we did with each other had, from the beginning, been a precursor to something more (not to mention we knew too much about each other to pretend we didn't anymore), etc. I called him up after my noon class. Blunt and precise, I told him to meet me in an hour; I didn't have patience for bullshit. "So yes or no?" I asked, showing nominal sympathy just as he rounded off his to-do-list with "class." Pause. "Yeah," he agreed with a bit of hesitation. "I'll skip it." He's never heard me like this before. M. Biologique walked in as I was conversing with Cuisiniere and Pav. He was too cheerful, spoke too much, tried too hard to please. We made small talk until I said ...

"Let me cut to the chase."

But I had a change of heart. "Help me out here," I began. "I want you to contribute because I don't think it would be fair for me to decide for the both of us [where this friendship is going] seeing how a relationship involves two people."

Everything came rolling out after that. It was weirdly cathartic. He was devastated that I was willing to drop him without thought. I was devastated to discover I couldn't bring myself to cut him entirely out of my life because, truth be told, he did own piece of my heart and wasn't about to give it up because I was evicting him. Our bond was - is - authentic. He apologized for, among other things, not checking himself and taking up risky behaviour. I apologized ("Why am I apologizing?!") for challenging him to stray. We agreed to set boundaries. Expecting the worst but arriving unscathed, I came out emotionally drained because never had any man been so adamant in preserving my presence in his life. It was such a therapeutic experience, the way we were equally critical and honest with each other. I no longer see him as someone more than a brother. Not a sibling, but a brother. Nothing can describe how close we grew in that small span of hard-earned time (although "liberating" comes to mind, in every sense of the word).

He invited me back to his place and we fell into our usual evening routine. Except this time around, there were no games, no hidden agendas, no self-conscious exchanges. We've come to rely on each other too much to be anything but real. We're flawed moths drawn to each other's eccentric flames. He is my good friend: Thoroughly unimitable, yet entirely acceptable as is. Clarity, civility and the acceptance of austerity: I do believe I am growing up.

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