Here’s where i’m scheduled to say something profound.
This week was already shaping up as a busy one on Monday night, and so i made myself a neat little list of things to blog about. That way i’d have at least one thing to write about every night, and i could compose in my head over the course of the day. The list for the days that have passed read: Journalism Essay, Under My Skin, Bloggies. Electronically penciled in for Friday was one word: “Selina.”
A year ago today was the first night of that fateful week where i saw her every night, and we counted it as the start of our relationship. I didn’t even hint at it on here until a few days later, and uncharacteristically didn’t mention it outrightly for over a week. Tonight i’m in a similar place… i spent my allotted AM blog-time last night just staring into a white box, and then grudgingly heading off to sleep. I had something to say, but no way to say it. This morning evoked a similar reaction.
At the beginning, everything was magical and perfect… there i was with this beautiful girl who was smart and talented, and actually seemed to find me attractive. But, from the start there were tiny nibbling doubts that i ignored, just assuming that they were the natural followup to the initial butterflies in my stomach. Too many things have muddied my hindsight in the year that has intervened for me to objectively say what went right and wrong, but i do know that we both served as an important piece of each other’s lives. And that it wasn’t really meant to be.
I always say that i never regret anything… that i’d never take anything back. It remains true here; just because Selina and i ended on a bad note doesn’t mean i would take back the entire experience. What’s sad is that my life has been relatively empty of tangible romantic entanglements since then, and so i couldn’t help but become all the more embittered about the entire situation — especially when hardly anyone i know seems to be very fond of my ex. Suddenly, this week, i find myself having funny little conversations with her, and wicked jokes under the din of a cappella rehearsals. Despite all the emotional and lyrical fists that i have balled up and thrown since then, i finally seem to be able to see through it back to the person who intrigued me so much to begin with.
So, maybe we’ll wind up friends in the end… at least a little bit. All of my life a year always seemed to be such a large quantity of time… it always seemed to make such a big difference in how life worked. Some things don’t change; I might not ever miss Selina. I miss butterflies, though, and she is forever inexorably connected to them because she taught me how to get past them to something a little more real.
Happy Anniversary.
[…] In the weeks to come i found myself watching in jealously and awe as 8 To The Bar added new members — almost all of them in my singing range. It had never occurred to me to audition. The grace saving me from actual disappointment about this were The Treblemakers — 8ttB’s just-formed female counterparts. The Treblemakers were composed almost exclusively of my close friends (save for Selina), and as they began rehearsing i quickly became their groupie-at-large … locating errant members after practice began, fetching extra photocopies, and reserving seats for them at the 8ttB concert. By the following fall i was an actual member of the TM’s, albeit an honorary one, and i still gave no though to auditioning for 8ttB despite them adding two more people who sing the same voice part as me in addition to our collective friend Dante, to whom i cannot claim any semblance of vocal comparison. […]