You've spent the entire day knowing that he's back in the city. In fact, you could almost feel 8AM hit when you knew his plane was landing even though you didn't hear from him until 1PM when he was already well into his whirlwind visit and you were already well into a day you knew would be torture.
But it's almost midnight and your soul has been slowly dying for hours waiting tables while you're waiting to see him.
You haven't seen him in almost a year, and before that it had been another year, and before that another, but you can remember every year and every hour of every visit from the first time you met him when you were freshman, and you were jealous because he had replaced you that time all of your best friends went to the same college and you went away trying to prove you were bigger and better. And as soon as you met him, you understood what all the fuss was about. He was amazing, he was smart, he was funny, he was everything your friends had said he was.
You fell for The Boy With the Glasses.
But it's almost midnight and you realize you're still polishing glasses thinking about The Boy With the Glasses when your phone buzzes in your pocket and you jump because you know it's from him, because you just KNOW.
And it is.
He tells you he's out in the East Village. You tell him you're almost off work and ask if you should come. He replies
Jarrod says YES!
Your heart sinks because, though you know Jarrod, you wanted HIM to say yes. You debate with yourself if maybe this is just the start of something terrible, and even when you decide it probably is, you respond
be there by midnight
You take the train and walk the numbered streets, and even though you've been to this bar before, and even though the streets are strategically numbered in such a guiding way, you get lost because you're about to start what you know hasn't ended well year after year. So you call him thinking that hearing his voice might help convince you to turn and run or take a chance
but he doesn't answer.
So you take a chance and hand over your ID to enter the masses of boys that would have drowned out his voice anyway, and even though they're all pretty, and even though they're all buff, your eye goes straight to him and it happens
You fall for The Boy With the Glasses.
And suddenly you're a freshman again ordering a vodka/soda and talking to him like you've never met and commenting on the fact that you're both wearing the same gingham shirt, trying to pretend you're not thinking it has some deeper meaning.
To break your awkwardness, you begin to push through the crowd so he can find Jarrod who is still checking out The Boy With the Mustache they're both really into. You cringe when you hear this, and you cringe again when you see that The Boy With the Mustache is actually The Casting Director You Know All Too Well and you're relieved when Jarrod is nowhere to be found so you can quickly turn and head the other direction because you know where you find The Casting Director You Know All Too Well you will find
The Boy With the Leather Jacket.
And even though he wasn't wearing his leather jacket, he still smelled like leather and acted smooth as suede and was right there when you turned around like you knew he would be making you look like the loser you are right in front of The Boy With the Glasses.
So you make your awkward stalker joke and return an awkward hug, but all you want is a real moment with The Boy With the Glasses before Jarrod appears, but once the hug ends, Jarrod appears with some journalist girl, so you play it cool
until your roommate appears.
You know this is trouble because everybody has fallen for your roommate since he was someone else's roommate freshman year at Northwestern when you fell for The Boy With the Glasses at Michigan. When they begin to bond over movies, you begin to yawn and feign exhaustion to forgo jealousy, exclaiming that you had better get home if you're going to make it to the brunch Jarrod had planned.
You do not invite your roommate.
You're sad to leave because you want to stay, so you hug him goodbye at the corner and ask "Can I sit next to you at brunch?" Jokingly, but in all seriousness.
"Of course."
You go home a mess, staying up and eating chicken wings with that Kelly Clarkson song on repeat you had once (surely drunkenly) told him he reminds you of.
But it finally puts you to sleep and you wake up feeling like you haven't seen him in another year and are all too eager to show up early for brunch even when he texts you not to hurry because they'll be late.
You calm yourself on the bench outside talking to that journalist girl you met last night that seems to write everything in her head like a column before she speaks it aloud. You realize this is funny because you write that in your head like a blog you'll write later. You keep writing your blog in your head while she speaks her column until you jump when he calls your name.
The Boy With the Glasses is half an hour late, but that doesn't matter because your table is ready and as the six of you move towards the seats
he doesn't sit next to you.
You don't even flinch because you were just joking when you asked him that last night, so you sit next to Jarrod and try to engage him in conversation as much as possible hoping that The Boy With the Glasses will feel like you did when he bonded over movies with your roommate. You know this is silly as soon as Jarrod mentions he's into your roommate which you had just assumed anyway. You move your conversation back to that journalist girl when The Boy With the Glasses brings up your blog
"Too bad this brunch isn't cool enough for you to blog about."
You explain that that's not how the blog really works, but having already decided you were going to blog about this brunch. He responds
"I just want to be in your blog with a cool name like 'The Boy With the Leather Jacket'."
You laugh and decide in your head that you've already named him The Boy With the Glasses.
You try to eat slowly, but you're so hungry, so you're glad that everyone else eats slowly because you don't want this brunch to end even if he is sitting so far away.
When brunch does end, you play it cool and proclaim that you'd love to hang out, but you have so many things to do and places to be.
But as everyone leaves and he asks you to hang out, you decide there's only one thing you want to do and one place you want to be and it's all right here.
He has to stop by to see his ex boyfriend who hasn't liked you since they became ex boyfriends and when you ask if you should wait elsewhere, he assures you no and you're happy to stay by his side.
The ex boyfriend is dismissive and doesn't speak to you.
The Boy With Glasses brushes it off and asks if you want to go for a walk on The Highline.
You talk about San Francisco and the dream job that turned out to be a nightmare and how all he wants to do is come back to this city where all of his friends are while you talk about how all you want to do is leave this city where all of your friends aren't. You leave The Highline to walk East because he has to meet another friend in an hour, and even though you have another hour alone, each Avenue ticks closer to the end.
You stop and sit to talk on the 5th with half an hour left, and as much as you try to avoid it, you talk about dating. Not you and him, but people in general
and you exclaim how terrible it feels to be so alone in a city so full of people.
He says that it's much easier outside of The City which doesn't make you feel any better about what you're trying to accomplish. He talks about his dates, 9 of them, ending with
The Actor.
And as if you didn't already hate actors enough, he entertains you with the story of the first one he ever dated. Sadly, he explains, The Actor was only in town for 6 weeks.
You think how lucky The Actor was to have him for 6 weeks when you'll never get 6 hours.
And at the end of your last hour, his worried parents begin to call him, and as you see him getting worried, you know it's your time to go. You sacrifice your last five minutes alone so he can call his mother. You don't even hug him goodbye, but instead, awkwardly skip away like it's no big deal you might not see him for another year.
When you enter the train, you're sorry you didn't hug him goodbye. You text your best friend who reminds you of the trouble you've started again that never ends well that she was there to witness freshman year when your tears mixed with your puke on that New Year's Eve he gave you the turtle that started the terrible end the first time.
You realize you're on the 3rd floor of Macy's, unsure of what motivated you to get off the train except for the fact that you had mentioned wanting a new pair of shoes. As you come to your senses and realize you can't afford a new pair of shoes, you step onto the down escalator and realize you're crying. You think, "Not THIS again" and rub your right eye so everyone will think there's something in your contact. You pull it together before you exit Macy's and head back to the train
on the way to which you pass ALDO and decide that maybe you need those new shoes after all. The idea of something new in your life gives you hope that you can move past all of this old shit you're still blogging in your head.
You decide while waiting in line to buy your new shoes that if you write about this in the second person, maybe you can ignore the reality of it all.
You'll be wearing your new shoes when you write this later.
You stop at Wendy's on your walk home because even if you're doing P90X, this has been an emotional day and you are a very good emotional eater. Still, you're happy you skip the fries.
You go home to put on your new shoes and a new outfit to head to rehearsal for the reading of a new play you're doing. You begin to feel refreshed by everything that is new, yet still can't help but jump every time your phone buzzes in your pocket.
This time, they're not from him.
So you go to your rehearsal with all the famous people who don't talk to each other and especially not to you, and you sit and read your lines and are relieved that some of them laugh and are more relieved that you decided to shut your phone off so it won't buzz anymore.
But even when rehearsal is over and you turn it back on, there is no buzz. At least, not from him, which is almost worse.
You know in your head that he is busy attending a movie premiere with other famous people and feel stupid typing and deleting texts asking him how it is as if he'll pick up his phone and answer sitting behind Don Cheadle and Marisa Tomei.
You leave rehearsal with the only other non-famous boy who is the only boy that will talk to you. The more he talks to you, the more his newness assures you that you can move past the old and you decide that maybe you could be into him instead of The Boy With the Glasses.
Then he mentions his boyfriend of 8 and a half years.
It's like a slap that makes you realize you're standing on the wrong train and you're going to have to transfer and your new shoes are killing your feet.
They're one size too small, but you saved money while wasting time so it was worth it.
When you finally figure out how to transfer trains, you can't resist anymore
Hope the movie was great!!!
He responds.
You put your headphones on and play that Kelly Clarkson song he reminds you of as the train approaches. You decide to blog about this day as soon as you get home.
But it's almost midnight, 24 hours later, and you realize that though you think this is somehow poetic it's probably pathetic and while you know that he'll read this you hope that he won't because he's probably able to say what he feels while you can only blog it.
And you know it's nothing you'll want to hear because as long as there are actors who are in town for 6 weeks, you'll still be across the country for 6 years.
But it's now well past midnight and you scroll towards the PUBLISH button wondering if you're simply ending what never started well.
Famous people are much shorter in real life,
TJB: Making It
I've spent a lot of time in the past 24 hours with a blank stare on my face that seems to say, "Oh my God, what have I done?!"
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