Thursday, February 16, 2006

I'm talented with reason. I cover all the angles. I can fail before I ever try.

This is a real post, so I suggest most of you tune in next time for something more entertaining.

This entry is the final chapter of the undergraduate Brooke saga. Yes, I'm sure you're all overwhelmed with glee.

Chapter %$R
So one night I’m riding home from some activity with Brooke. It’s late, and just before I get out of her car, she stops me. “Mike, do you mind if we keep driving for a little while?” “…No, not at all.” A long conversation ensues, and I learn that Brooke, a longtime childhood almost friend, has developed romantic feelings for me. Not surprisingly, I had also begun to have similar feelings. We spent time together almost every day, and it was comfortable. We appreciated each other. I could be myself, and so could she.

Unfortunately for me, something was still missing. This “something” was the reason I had never acted on my feelings. I sincerely liked Brooke, but deep down, I felt there were some issues I could not reconcile.

So there I am alone with Brooke in the car feeling like I have to answer a question whose consequences may very well divide the heavens. I try to be up front with people; I try to be honest with them. Feelings are simple right? “I like you, lets get together” or “I don’t like you, I’m sorry.” Well, I took an hour and ended right were I started. Staying true to form, I told Brooke how I felt in detail. The two hour drive ended with both of us confused and discouraged.

Over and over again, I’ve relived that experience in my mind and tried to figure out what happened. Hell, I’d just like to figure out what happened to me. T
his conversation could have been a simple 10 minute, “I think you’re great, but I don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry.” I call this scenario the infamous, “I like you, but not enough.” The idea is quite simple, so why are these conversations awkward, why do they take SO long, and why does one or both parties still walk away confused?

Things I wish I had understood:
1. I DID like Brooke. I liked her a lot. That WAS the problem. If I didn’t have any feelings, I could have given her the 10 minute padded rejection speech. Ultimately, I just didn’t like her enough. This feeling was fact; I KNEW she wasn’t for me. (I know I’m not allowed to say such things, but I do it anyway because I’m right.)

2. The whole truth is not always a good thing. We humans like a black and white world. When gray “truth” is revealed, we have a hard time understanding it and an even harder time accepting it.
3. No matter how imperfectly formulated, my answer could never shatter the sky. A few days later, Brooke quoted Chris Carrabba in a letter, “I am fairly agile. I can break and not bend, or I can break and take it with a smile.” Apparently, I’m not the only one that can handle rejection.
4. Rejection hurts people’s feelings. That’s life. There is no way around it if you plan on dating. The one thing you CAN control is how you present it. Emotions cannot be easily put into words. If you try to put negative romantic feelings into words, the harder you try to soften the blow, the longer you twist the knife and the MORE you hurt the other person.

Things I should have done:
1. Told Brooke simply that I enjoyed her as a friend.
2. Told Brooke that I didn’t have romantic feelings for her. Yes, half truths are just that, but at least she could have gone home an hour earlier that night and known where I stood in relation to the “us.”
3. Chilled out. I so was terrified of hurting Brooke's feelings, I couldn’t be frank.

Epilogue:
After we had our talk, I stayed away, and I missed her a lot. Some days I thought that I should try to make it work, but for every one of those days, there were three on which I was glad I had kept my "distance." Seven months later, Brooke and I were real friends again, and *gasp* she was over me.

Now, I don’t miss her anymore. Despite the present evidence, I don’t think about her much either. It’s sad to leave and forget about people you are close to, but I must concede that these kinds of experiences, though painful, are good for me.

Dealing with others on such a deep level forces you to shift your thinking and stretch your soul, something I always need. A big chunk of making dating enjoyable is accepting that a girl will be fine without you or you’ll be fine without her. It would be nice if I we could let failed attempts go sooner than we do, but I’m not sure we would learn as much. I most certainly wouldn’t be writing about them years after their occurrence.

1 comment:

eleka nahmen said...

You know, this really was very insightful. I'm glad you wrote it.