Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Attempted Robbery

I was dancing by myself in a satiny red party dress, while couples danced around me. They were 16 going on 17, I was 15. The prom was for juniors and seniors, but I got grandfathered in via the planning committee. I looked at the faces around me, some familiar others strange. Were they looking at me? Could they tell I didn't belong there? Leaving the dancefloor could draw more attention to myself, so I stayed put and pretended to have fun.
Then suddenly, I wasn't alone. Tall and confident, he came towards me. Two feet away, I couldn't tell if he was dancing with me. When he took my hand, I knew he was. I stared at my feet and concentrated on matching his every move. It was imperative that I danced well. No mistakes. I caught his rhythm then took a chance. I looked up at him, and studied his face. Round, yet mature with a well grown goatee. He was beautiful and I was in love.
Several songs later, I was alone again. But he came back to me periodically. When the last song of the night was played I looked for him. He was on the dancefloor again, but he wasn't alone. His girlfriend got the last dance.
I walked into the warm spring night with a new determination. My mission was clear. I was going to make him mine. I wanted what I wanted and a girlfriend wasn't going to stop me from getting it.
My first move was to find a way into his life. Although we went to different schools, it was easy. Before that prom we didn't know each other, but we knew the same people.
"Oh yeah, he's cool peeps." I'd work his name into conversations, pretending we were the best of friends. I doubted he knew my name.
I went to college fairs, football games, parties, anywhere I knew he'd probably be.
"Hey you! What's up?" I'd say when we "accidentally" bumped into each other. He always gave me a hug and talked to me for a few before heading off with his friends.
In the fall, I took my scheme to the next level.
"Hey, so this party we're planning for Jack and Jill. Who should we invite?" I asked my friend.
Of course she mentioned his name.
"Maybe, we should call him on three way to see if he knows anyone else who wants to go," I suggested. "Do you have his number?"
She did. We called. He answered. We talked, and not just about the party. Jokes were made, gossip was shared. It went perfectly. So did the next three way call a week later.
After a month, I no longer needed a buffer. We talked every night, because I called every night. He never asked for my phone number, but he always took my calls. We were friends. Phase 1 was complete.
Phase 2 was simple. Stay close and wait. Wait for him to break up with her. Wait for him to fall for me. She was clingy, jealous, insecure and annoying. I was cool, laidback, fun, and quite adorable. It was only a matter of time before he moved on to someone better, and I was going to welcome him with open arms.
They were always on the precipice of a breakup.
"Damn, she's always starting drama," he'd complain. I listened and sympathized, but never suggested they break up. I refused to be a homewrecker. If he broke up with her, it had to be of his own volition, preferably because he realized he was in love with me.
She knew about my friendship with him, and I knew she didn't like it. But I didn't care. If she really made him happy, he wouldn't need to talk to me all the time. Besides, it's not like he was cheating on her. We just talked and hung out. Nothing wrong with that. So what if he occasionally said things like, "With legs like yours, you should wear miniskirts all the time." That didn't mean anything. Well, it didn't mean everything. I took every flirtatious comment as a sign. He wouldn't flirt if he wasn't attracted to me and being attracted to me was just one step away from being in love with me. Or so I thought.
Then one day it happened. He did what I never thought he would, what I never wanted him to do. He cheated on her. The problem was, he didn't cheat on her with me.
"I kissed him," Diesel Girl told me on the phone one night. We were friends, but so were they. I never told her how I felt about him, but she had to know. His name was always coming out of my mouth.
How could he do that to me? I was supposed to have him next, not her. How did she even get in the picture. I never saw it coming, but it couldn't happen again.
"Liz, why are so dressed up today?" Stumpy asked after last period gym class.
"I'm not."
"Liz, why are you fixing your hair?"
"What?" I stared at my light blue skirt and white tank top in the mirror as I brushed the sides of my hair into a twist.
"Where are you going?"
"Nowhere."
"Why are you lying to me?"
"I'm not."
"You're going to see him today aren't you!"
"Yeah, I am! So what." I was defiant. I had every right to put on a miniskirt and go to his house to hang out. We were friends and friendship was about to have its privileges.
We sat on his couch and listened to music and eventually I was laying in his arms. I held him tight and enhaled his aftershave. His face was inches from mine. I looked up at him and our eyes met. His dark brown eyes were intense. So intense I couldn't take it. I closed my eyes and buried my head in his neck. Several cheap feels later, I took the bus home.
"Why did you go there?" my friends asked me the next day at lunch.
"Because, we're friends and he wanted to hang out."
"He's got a girlfriend. He's an asshole, who's just leading you on. Why do you let him?"
"Whatever. First off, she's a bitch and he can't stand her anyways. Second, he's not an asshole. We get each other. I really love him."
"You don't know him to love him," they argued.
They were wrong. I didn't have to be his girlfriend to love him. 90210 and My So Called Life had proven to me over and over again that it's possible to fall for your best male friend. The person didn't have to love you back in order for you to love them.
I tried on several occasions to recreate that moment on his couch. It never happened. He stayed with his girlfriend and kept cheating on her with the other girl. And I kept waiting, waiting for him to be done with both of them and finally see me for what I was. The one he was supposed to be with. The one who understood him and loved him unconditionally. I wouldn't let him go. I had held on too long and I was entitled. There were too many tears, too much longing, and too many opportunities for me to walk away with nothing. I had earned the right to be liked by him. To be the girl everyone knew was his. I deserved that.
I stopped talking about him all the time. Not because he wasn't always on my mind, but because no one would listen to me anymore. They were sick of my one sided love affair and refused to indulge my whimsical fancy any longer. I listened to Jewel and distorted her lyrics to fit my life. I wallowed in the depths of heartache and reveled in the delicious pain. Oh this was love. It was so big and all consuming I was sure it would conquer all, his apathy, his mistress, his girlfriend. EVERYTHING! Love would prevail.
But it never did. And "Near You Always" started sounding redundant. So did "I Miss You," "Glycerine," and "Wonderwall." The thought of him stopped making me cry on cue and I was having a hard time remembering exactly why I loved him so much. He went away to college the next summer and I went to a summer program. I played my sad songs, but forgot what they meant to me. Trying to remember it all was tiring and by the 2nd week of summer college I didn't feel like expending the energy. It had all grown old and very sickening. For goodness sake, he had a girlfriend and was an unrepentant cheater.
Several months ago I was on the phone with the Angry Black Man.
"My girlfriend doesn't like the fact that we talk so much," he said.
"Why?"
"I don't know. She knows we're friends, but it just makes her uncomfortable."
"Why?" I rolled my eyes at the absurdity of the situation.
"Well she thinks that you might try to turn the friendship into something more."
"What! Please. We're just friends. I don't even see you like that. Besides, I would never try to take another woman's boyfriend. I'm not trifling like that."
Thank God for convenient amnesia.

22 comments:

Cece said...

I have a theory on male and female relationships and of course its totally one sided and convenient for me but who cares. I have never not will I ever mess around with a friend. Know why? Because the guys I choose to make my friends, I’m not attracted to. When I see a guy, for me its instant. Either its there or its not. If is isn’t there off to Friendsville you go. But if it is there and either you have a girl or I’m with someone then sure we can hang out. We can chill watch movies together. Even alone. But make no mistake he’s not a friend. He’s a guy I would be screwing if the timing was better. And then when the timing ges better, well then...

RebeLioness said...

Cece, your comments here confirm the Ladder Theory: http://www.intellectualwhores.com/masterladder.html
I think this post is hilarious and yet vividly painful at the same time. I've fancied relationships in my head and harlequin-esque romances to go with it. I guess it's all part of growing up. I'll tell you one thing, though, I would've been so through with Stumpy after she kissed "my man" knowing good and well I wanted him. Had she tried that in the Bronx she would've got Timberland up! =D Men and their cheating arses! May they burn in HELL!

Dreamlover said...

LOL, I loved this post.

Absolutely adored it!! You are a great writer and I have so been there, haven't we all?

Is he still with that silly girl?

Thomas said...

You okay?

jailbait said...

I remember that day you went to his house and laid on his chest...those were the days! Stalker Liz was in rare form back then!!!

Rebelioness...get the story right! Stump would NEVER kiss that boy...Manley Stanley (as I used to call her) kissed him. lol

Sangindiva said...

this was really cute.
i felt your pain... hahaha!

jailbait said...

Dreamlover, not to answer out of turn, but no, he's no longer with T-bone. (Home-girl was so skinny she looked like the T-bone thats in a steak.) Last I heard she was with this hairstylest who everyone back home thinks is gay. I think they broke up though.

jali said...

Great writing.

Rebelioness said...

Jailbait...cut a gal some slack! You were there and I wasn't! =P Guess I did skip over Diesel Gal and just saw Stumpy. Well then, Diesel Gal would've gotten it then. Either way, SOMEBODY would've been seeing the bottom of my boot! =D

Yeah, I must agree...you honed your stalking from waaaaaaaaaay back when! Tsk, tsk, tsk...when will it end!

BTW, The Idiot (is that what we're calling him now?) made an interesting comment about you last night over IM. Call me for more details!!! =D

Spill The Beans said...

Great post. I watched my daughter do the friendship maneuver this year (though she didn't take it as far). The guy broke up with his girlfriend and started liking my daughter. Suddenly, she's decided, now that he likes her back, that she never really wanted him after all.

Maybe it was just a competitive thing between girls, her showing she could get him, if she wanted to. Who knows.

Girls are strange creatures.

The Stiltwalker said...

damn. haven't we all been here a time or two.

Lynn said...

Liz I haven't had a moment to catch up--been out of town for a while. Hope you are doing well.

Rev. Smokin Steve said...

Rumors are starting to unfold that Jay-Z and Beyonce are breaking up.

Did you have anything to do with this?

Sober In the City said...

I loved this post. Couldn't stop reading. Been there. Done that.

But we are not 15 anymore, and I would like to think that at some point in my life I can be friends with a man without anything else going on.

At least that is what I'm telling myself today, because I have a 'get together' with my new friend Wes tonight. Convenient amnesia for sure.

Diane Mandy said...

Another great post that every woman can relate to... I'm always happy that I drop by your site!

Serena said...

Falling for my good male friends is a horrible habit I have. Luckily, I seem to be breaking it ; ) This post was right on point.

doc-t said...

I LOVED this.. is this fiction or???

K said...

Yeah, do what you want--to hell with the naysayers (and common sense)--that's my philosophy anyhow--but ugh I hate loving the assholes...

Cece said...

Who's the angry black man??

Elizabeth said...

"wallowed in the depths of heartache" Gotta admit, I've done a fair bit of wallowing myself.

Why DO we do that to ourselves when revelling in someone's love is so much more satisfying?

Methinks we actually like it. Maybe pain makes us feel real.

The said...

Well done Cheet. I was drawn in from the first word. I started out thinking that we guys don't have a chance with such patient persistent planning, but soon I began to think, "What a tangled web we weave, when at first we attempt to deceive..." Finally, looking at your current situation I was left with the thought, "Life's a muthafucka ain't it?"

Pink Lemonade Diva said...

i was right there with you through this whole thing. great writing.