SWORDFERN
Rooted, I used to think.

Profile - Archive�- RSS
Guestbook - Email - Diaryland

Giving Notice - Friday, Sept. 29, 2017
Accepting Offers - Tuesday, Sept. 26, 2017
Indian/Polish Wedding - Thursday, Sept. 21, 2017
The Builder - Wednesday, Sept. 13, 2017
Rupert Part II - Sunday, Sept. 10, 2017


Friday, Mar. 13, 2009 @ 4:30 pm
Breaking Up



Yesterday, I was working in the computer lab with Ben. We were working away on AutoCAD, trying to finish up our Highways Report.

We weren't really talking that much, too engrossed in our work.

"I don't really know what's happening with me and my g/f," he says.

My stomach drops. This is a situation that I know very well. Not his situation but, rather, what he is doing.

I remember one night in Vancouver seven years ago. I remember getting a ride home from a concert at the Orpheum with Grant and someone else (I don't remember who. All I remember is Grant). I was squished next to him, me in the middle of the bench of an import truck. We were too drunk to be driving. A rare, risky circumstance for me. Due to space constraints, I was changing the gears for him. After we dropped off the other person, I slid over and sulked, staring out the window into the rainy, forested university endowment lands. I remember telling him that I was breaking up with my b/f (I don't remember which one. All I remember is Grant).

[Sidenote: Grant is now married. He still works at the biotech company where we met. He told me that he'd never marry, and that is why he didn't want a serious relationship with me. I am embarrassed that I ever thought that he would want anything more than a fling from me. He had no idea how much I desired and adored him.]

This is what you do when you like someone and you're in a dying relationship: you confess.

He asked me for my notes from a course last quarter, as he need to retake the final exam. He said, "I can come to your place and pick them up if they're too heavy to carry."

Later, we walked to the bus stop. We ride the same route, his stop 10 minutes from mine. We talked, mostly about school, the sun setting across his craggy face.

I'm panicking just a little bit. I trust myself, but I am still essentially the same person that I was with Grant. In some ways, I wish that I was more like I was then: more free-spirited. Dating. Depressed. Happy. Alone. I don't know... I guess that it's just that:

Ben reminds me of Grant.



Roots | Shoots