I took a risk last week and posted something rather personal , something I would never have tried if I thought the community here would just laugh at the entire situation. And although I wasn't surprised at the encouraging replies, I was surprised at the number of responses. As Arnold said, it was epic! So I suppose you guys wouldn't mind hearing about the Part 2…

The part 2 started only a few hours after the encounter depicted in the previous piece. The girl in question called me, and it was one of the more bizarre conversations I've ever had…with anybody. As a general side note, I believe the art of conversation is a dying trait amongst humans, and I find it most disconcerting. Many people I met have difficulty meeting your eye, they mumble, they shift about awkwardly, and they can't maintain the simplest discussion for more than a few minutes. I attribute this to the electronic age, where there's increased communication, but the quality of that communication has suffered greatly. Simply speaking normally to someone almost seems like a sad and depressing impossibility…which is one of the reasons I liked this girl in the first place. I thought charm, in both men and women, died some time back in the late 19th century, but she always had a ton of it. Perhaps best of all, she was quick-witted, which meant our conversations were more like Sports Night and less like an athlete interview on ESPN.

Anyway, she called me in a lame effort to apologize for the appalling behavior of Mr. Pretentious Jackass, which made little sense. She was on board with his blatant insults in the store – clearly – so why should things change an hour later? And furthermore, what's the point of meeting for a drink so she can "apologize appropriately?" None of this holds up to a standard logic and/or common sense breakdown, and she threw the "I guess I just don't know what I want" cop-out, which I've never accepted from anyone in any walk of life. I understand emotional confusion. I understand difficult decisions. I understand not leaping about haphazardly without thinking. But she has already made decisions and she has already determined that I'm not worthy of her attention. Just because she made a mistake and she may have realized that the guy she's with now is a colossal moron, doesn't change the fact that I didn't measure up initially. Hence, I have little to no sympathy for this plea; this thinly veiled train of thought designed to make me entertain thoughts of forgiveness.

This was my state of mind when I met her for that drink a few nights ago. But as I sat there, listening to her convoluted and unconvincing train of thought, I began to reflect on something Arnold and I spoke about (half-jokingly) after the first situation. He's not around right now; otherwise, I would've told him before I wrote this – we're pretty good about listening to each other's stories – and maybe have come to some new conclusions. But anyway, he figured it'd be a damn good idea to adopt a mode of biblical-esque revenge: if she wants me back, I wouldn't go back…but just to piss that guy off, I'd still sleep with her. Now, I do have a firm sense of morality, but this often fluctuates with the push and pull of the reality we inhabit. In all honesty, my reality is now this: a jackass with an ego the size of Wisconsin essentially poisoned and stole away a very good woman (poisoned beyond repair, I fear), and justice dictates that he shouldn't escape without suffering consequences. My fist down his throat is great for the short-term but awful for the long-term (don't need an arrest record, thanks), sooooo…

But of course, I could only consider this plan of action if I perceived the door was open at our meeting. And as rambling and falsely apologetic as she was – continually ignoring the fact she effed up – it was clear that said door is indeed open. Or, if not open, at least unlocked. But before I ask what you all think I should do, please bear in mind that I will get nothing out of this besides revenge. I have no interest in rekindling anything with this woman, and I really don't care what the hell she does. So remember, if I do this, I'd be hurting Mr. Pretentious Jackass (which I have absolutely no problem with), but I'd also be hurting her. So I suppose the sub-question is, should I really lay half the blame on her? Does she deserve the hurt I'm going to inflict? And don't think I won't read the responses; I do value feedback, and I wouldn't post this unless I did.

Lastly, I'd like to leave you with this. Down through history, men and women have fought a pitched battle that never ends, and the prize that can never be claimed may indeed be a lie. The idealistic concept of love, devised almost entirely by the imagination of literary masters who could allow our innermost thoughts and desires to explode in vibrancy on a simple sheet of paper, may, in truth, be fictional. Perhaps we're hindered and haunted by a romanticized vision of a wonderful concept, a concept that human weaknesses and deficiency can't allow to exist. Nevertheless, we can never kill that notion, and there's a reason why: the world instantly becomes almost intolerable without it. Hence, it may be more about survival than anything else.

%d bloggers like this: