(This is going to be a long entry, sorry)
So I suppose now is the time to talk about the Matt thing. I've put off blogging about this entire dilemma, because, well, sigh it just seems all so trivial to me after the fact.
To be honest, I am at a point now in my life where I have never been before. This is all uncharted territory. I remember feeling sure of myself, independent, and fabulous as a senior, but this is different. I am thinking, is this womanhood?!? We shall see, after all- I've never been to womanhood before- how does a girl know when she's gotten there? But I would be willing to bet that my passport was stamped sometime amidst late spring. In layman's terms: I got my life together.
I found out Matt had a trip planned here about a month before he came. How do I know? Well, through facebook, of course. The endless supply of anonymous creeper abilities. As was my guess with the picture I assumed he just wanted negative attention from me. So I ignored the whole thing and pretended I had absolutely no clue that he was coming here. Uh, well, you know I kind of avoided it, too. The idea that he could be up in my space again made me so uncomfortably stressed and nervous. I confided in a few, and for about a week before his arrival date I felt ill. There is just something so wrong about ex lovers, and I think that's really why we're supposed to have only ONE. There is nothing more humbling than giving your heart away.
So, back to the point: we spoke on the phone. He asked, "do you want to get together for lunch?" I said... "okay." I wanted to say, "no. I'm busy. I don't want to see you." But I didn't.
Matt's behavior never ceases to amaze yet strangely disturb me. He is posting pictures of us on facebook, dressing up as a missionary for Halloween, and traveling thousands of miles to "hang out with friends" whom he wasn't even close with... Yet I, in his words was "crazy" and the entire relationship was all wrong and then some. He is fascinated with my change in faith- and is oddly intrigued by my ability to get my life together.
It is night and after re-vamping plans to fit my hectic schedule I walk into Chipolte at 6:07 after receiving a text from him at 5:50 asking "where r u." Our plans were for six. I sit down and try to eat. He is the same: same face, same hair, same sallow complexion, but yet he is also changed. He dresses differently now, and talks on subjects like global warming and vegetarianism. All while sipping a beer. I am in awe of it, and I think forever he'll just be the privileged kid from LO who pitched in baseball. But the twenties are for finding yourself.
I am really not sure exactly what I was expecting. I suppose I wanted some sort of climactic conversation, something tangible- but it was typical Matt. And it is a constant journey of reading through the lines and connecting dots. A book of puzzles I am too old to play with now.
We made small talk for what seemed like three hours over dull topics and then left. We sat for only forty-five minutes. He was the same, and I was not dazzled.
I walked out, and he was behind me. Memories of how we used to eat together are flooding my memory. Things that have been clouded over with new friends, experiences, and time. "Well bye" I say, and he mentions with a puff of cold breath "maybe we're going the same way. " And I reply, "I don't think so."
And that is that. I don't know when I'll see this kid again. I don't know what exactly he wanted from me, or what he hoped to accomplish by seeing me again. It is and will continually be a mystery for me. I am unaffected by the vortex and don't have time anymore.
So life goes on, and it is so good.
