The Day That Hell Froze Over and Pigs Flew

In my last entry, I mentioned a conversation that I’d had shortly before I left for Cape Cod. It did not go the way I thought it would at all. And I mean that in the best possible way.

The backstory: Roughly six months after my break-up with C., I met H. He was outgoing, funny, spontaneous, and charming. He was also licking his wounds from a broken engagement several months before. He lived in a different time zone, which was great because it meant it couldn’t get too serious.

The first time we ever hung out we got rip-roaring drunk and he tried to kiss me. There was some other drama that night but way too much to go into here. Anyway, we talked about it the next day when we were both sober and laughed about it. He went back to his city and called me when he got home. We stayed on the phone for hours that night talking about a million little things. From that night on, we talked every single day for six months. He made at least a trip a month up to Denver for business so we saw each other on a regular basis. We drank wine and talked about places we wanted to visit. We made loose plans to go to Seattle for a weekend. He repeatedly asked me to visit him. He would remember little things like the fact that I can’t stand touching terra cotta and that I love bendy straws. He would call to ask how a meeting went. He would send me text messages with the Red Sox scores. It was like dating…but without the sex.

Everything fell apart one night over sushi. I remember watching him take a long drink from his beer after his verbal assault, as though his harsh words had dehydrated him. We walked to the car in silence and as he drove me home I replayed the night over in my head trying to figure out what I’d done that caused him to unleash his venom on me. He walked me to the door and we didn’t talk again until last Friday.

I found out later that he’d started dating some girl and I’m not sure if that factored into his behavior that night. The funny thing is, him dating someone else didn't bother me. However, watching him treat me like dirt over California rolls did bother me.

The thing that crushed me the most was that I felt so disposable when we stopped talking. He used to tell me that I was the bright spot in his day and I always wondered if he missed hearing from me at all. It seemed so strange that we went from talking constantly to not talking. At. All.

I knew we were going to have to speak last week and I was dreading it. I figured it would be at best, awkward; at worst, vicious. It was neither. What started out as formal gave way to comfortable. We laughed about getting hangover food the day after we met. He asked if I’d made it to Seattle yet. I told him no. I asked about his family and the ranch. We talked about the shopping excursion I’d taken him on to find an appropriate winter coat. We laughed about the dinner on the patio of Stella’s where I knocked our bottle of wine onto the bread.

Just as we were getting off the phone, there was this…

“I was an asshole.”
“Not all the time.”
“You didn’t deserve any of what I said that night at sushi.”

I held the phone in silence, not really sure of what to say.

“I was going through a tough time and I took it out on you. I wanted to call you a million times but I figured you hated me after what I’d said. I’m really sorry for everything.”

I was so completely caught off guard by what he was saying that I was speechless. I always feel like an ass when I say “thank you” to someone after they’ve apologized. I don’t know why but I guess it seems condescending to me. But I did appreciate his words and I told him that.

He told me that he was moving back east and told me if I was ever in town to give him a call and he would take me to dinner. I promised I would. We said our goodbyes and that was that.

A few days after the call I was still asking myself if it had really happened. Of all the men who have come in and out of my life, he was the LAST one I would have ever expected that from. Of course I always hoped he would call and apologize for being such a raging ass. I just thought that if he ever extended the olive branch, I'd beat him with it. Turns out, the ambush apology is a good approach with me. Kinda made me want to extend the olive branch in a few directions myself...

I don’t know if we’ll stay in touch but I do know that if our paths ever cross again, we’ll be ok. And for us, ok is pretty damn good.