The Long Weekend  

"Hey! What's up?" She asks with interest. She knows me; her birthday was a few months ago and the only other reason I'd call is because something is up. She's astute.

Something is up. "I've done something crazy and I need you to tell me so." She's a mom, I know she will. She's also one of my best friends, and won't hesitate to beat me with my own stupidity. That's what friends do. They beat you with love until you come to your senses. I have no sense. This will be a long beating.

"You know I will. Now, What did you do?" I hear her lighting up through the phone. She's expecting a long story.

"I'm going on a weekend getaway with a woman I met online!" I blurt the headline.

"Good for you!" She screams, the bluetooth of pain bite's into my ear.

"Uhm…You know…that was the crazy part, right?"

She blows smoke into the phone, "That's Crazy? That's nothing! The last time you did this, you married her."

"Well, I wasn't planning on going that nutty this time. This is just a weekend."

"Good! Rob's learning! So who is she? What's going on?"

She asks a bunch of questions, so I give her the gore…

It all started a while back. Remember when I first posted about my vacation? This woman does. She emailed me, several times. Nothing weird, or stalkerly, just vacation links stretched into mini sausages leading to cool get away sites.

"How does that look?" She evaluated, looking for better clues. She asked me questions about me as well.

"I dunno. I like fall…"

The next day my mail filled with autumn emails. She wasn't asking for anything, just showing me the sites. As a once bitten dog, I appreciated that. We started talking about seasons and Snausages. comparing scars, and sniffing for scent. In email world, it's hard to get into too much trouble--especially at our tame level.

When things turned dark at my job she started asking about that.

She cared? Whassup with that?

I told her that was going to put a crimp in my vacation plans, but I'd be ok. That's when she made a joke about one of my posts and said she'd show up at my door pretending to sell magazines, just to say "Hi."

"Uhm…well, you'd have to be drunk too, cuz my house is a mess right now, that's the only way I'd let you in, but you're always welcome to try."

A few minutes later a reply came, "Are we ready for that?"

Uhhhh…

I stared at the screen. "NO! NO! NOT READY!" Screamed my inner child, "BAD! BAD THINGS HAPPEN! HORRIBLE THINGS!" there was terror in his voice, and poop in his pants. My inner child wanted nothing to do with this activity, and he had a tantrum to show it.

Unfortunately for him, another part of my anatomy was already hunting and pecking the keyboard:

"I am ready. I know you have your things to work through too though, so that's fine. Besides, I really couldn't have you here cuz this place really is a mess."

The next email was only seconds away, "I'm fine here. Why don't we take a weekend somewhere between us, how does this look?" It was another link, to a nice getaway town.

WOO HOO!!!

"Yeah, I guess that looks ok. We could do that."

So we were set. We made a rough plan and promised to hone it in as the date approached. The next day, I phoned my friend. She's been my back-up for years. She knows where the bodies are hidden, what's more, if mine was going to turn up floating in a lake, it was a good idea to tell her where to look.

"Good for you!" She screamed again, "You'll have to tell me about most of it when you get back."

I laughed. "Of course I will!" We said our good-byes and I began to plan. I started looking at things going on in the area. There was this cool wine and cheese tasting event not too far from us. That looked great too. As one day moved me closer to my vacation I grew more and more excited. That's when I got the next email.

"I'm sorry, I can't do it. Don't be mad, I feel guilty, but I'm not ready."

My heart broke into 2 pieces. A part of me was disappointed, but that wasn't my heart. No, my heart was confused. One half was sad, the other half wanted to make everything alright for her. What could I do? I wasn't mad. It wasn't her fault. I felt like a six year old waiting a year for Disneyland only to find he can't go because his sister has the mumps. Ok, this Disneyland didn't involve any sisters or mumps, but still, you get the idea. The point was: she wasn't ok. This felt weird. I wasn't sure why.

I emailed her back to let her know that I was ok with her decision. I was. I do understand. Sure it was my vacation, but it was also hers and I didn't want her going if she wasn't going to be comfortable. That's not me, and that's not a vacation.

Now you want to hear my guilty secret? The part I didn't even tell her? I was looking forward to having sex. It's been since January 6th, 2007 4:45pm--not that I'm counting. The afternoon was cool, the sex was brief. Does that look like a repeat? It is. I replay it all the time. I know--but that's not the guilty part.

Here's the guilty part. She did disappoint me I was disappointed because I was missing a weekend with a wonderful person. I was disappointed because I wouldn't get to spend time hanging out--yes having sex, but more importantly, getting to know her. I'm a guy. I'm not allowed to be disappointed in that. I'm supposed to be all about the score.

I'm not. I wanted more. You know what I wanted most of all?

I wanted her to know about my job, how I could handle money, that I love children and my parents, that I may not have any friends, but I am really friendly. I can respect a women, and I do know how to touch her, I have interesting things to say, but I am more interested in what she has to say and how her mouth curls, and her eyes glow when she's saying it. I can tip at a restaurant, and drive a car blindfolded--but don't. I don't know how to unhook a garter, but would love the opportunity to practice, I can order a bottle of wine, but I'm a little rusty around the sniffing of the cork, and you know what? You bet your ass I can make her laugh. Even more than any of this though, I wanted to see her smile when she introduced herself.

See, I love making people smile. And I was disappointed I couldn't do that. The disappointing part was really about me, and not abut her. I may joke about it, but the weekend wasn't really all about me. Nothing is. For all my bluster, I'm just secretly a nice guy, and I care, and that's why it didn't feel right.

So what now? I don't know. She may have backed out of a long weekend, but she gave me something better than a 3 day sex smile. She showed me something about me I'd forgotten since the divorce.

I really am a nice guy. I do care about other people, and that's one thing that's impossible to see about ourselves unless it's reflected in somebody else's eyes. We may never meet in person, but she is already a great friend.