Everyone overuses the word “like” and it drives me up the wall because I do it.
It’s a filler word, something you say when your brain has frozen and your RAM is overloaded.
That’s why I, like, say it a lot.
I need time to process because my computer was made in the 1970s. There’s only so many upgrades.
It’s when I’m at my computer that I can go back and erase all the filler I use in conversation.
Conversing with me is the surest way to get me not to write about something because I have an auditory lag that causes me to pick up about half of what people are saying. That’s why I need so much clarification. Negotiations are sometimes tense because it leads people to believe I’m off in my own little world. Everyone else understood without all these questions.
I tend to remember everything I read. That’s why I’ve loved Aada so madly all these years. She gave me her communication in my favorite medium.
But if we’d started seeing each other in person and I was responsible for remembering things she said, it would be a 50/50 shot as to whether I’d retain anything.
I’m starting to recognize the pleasure in this.
Because you cannot go back and reread conversations. You cannot relive the ways in which you’ve made mistakes. This is for good and ill… sometimes I needed to reread something from Aada’s perspective to understand why I’d done wrong.
Sometimes, I was very clear that I was wrong.
There are so many things that spiraled out of control because our emotions were distilled. We got wasted on our own dopamine with the way we wasted time fighting.
That’s what I thought meeting in person would stop. That we’d lost our humanity. We would both turn into these keyboard warriors that the other wouldn’t recognize and start tearing each other down. I was afraid to meet in person because I didn’t know how it would change our e-mail lives, but I was willing to try.
I never knew what was polite from her and what was genuine, so I cannot speak to whether she was really planning to meet with me. She always acted as if it was no big deal, then scared by the reality. I was scared, too. I just didn’t act like it because someone had to be the one to put on their big underwear.
I don’t think she thought I could hear things like, “I’m scared.”
When I’d been over our relationship a hundred times from her perspective and knew she had every right to be afraid. I wouldn’t have blamed her one bit if she’d said, “I like writing to you, but I don’t see this going anywhere past that.” She didn’t. She said, “someday, perhaps” and then asked for baby steps. So I’ll never know if we could have met in person or not, because I blew up the relationship before we could actually work it out.
I’m sure in a lot of ways that’s why I did it. That I was tired of putting someone first in my life when they had reservations about meeting in person. I turned away from her because the situation was so impossible. I lost my humanity because of impatience. The last straw was that she lied to me.
It wasn’t even that she lied to me, it was finding out she could. And not to care about the consequences for me the bigger this lie got when it would have been so easy to tell me that she lied.
She lied to impress me.
I believe that even less, but I don’t have a better story than the one she gave me.
I think a lot of my need to put her first would have gone away with seeing her in the flesh. In context, even better. I didn’t know how close her other relationships were. She didn’t know those things about me.
We could have learned to have things go unsaid, taken care of with a glance instead of a paragraph.
I sabotaged all of that, because I was tired of waiting. Feeling like there was another truth to all of this that she wasn’t writing. That her husband and family didn’t know we were friends, or they did and they hated me for it.
If they didn’t before, I’m sure they do now.
What’s a true loss is not being able to broker peace.
In another universe, Dana and I are laughing with Aada and her husband, because that’s how it should have been all along. I am responsible for why that meeting never happened. I wish I could go back and re-do all of it, knowing what I know now. If I’d played my cards right, I would have had bonus family. I played every hand like I’d looked up the worst combinations in poker.
I would have put on my big girl pants and just Skyped her while she was on vacation. We both would have been a better judge of character, knowing whether we were actually doing the right thing by keeping our relationship so on the down-low.
It drove me up the wall to be so secretive because it reminded me of dating Meagan in 12th grade. There were certain people she didn’t want to know she was dating me, so there were a lot of rules to remember in front of others. Maybe that’s why Aada isolated me, so we wouldn’t have to remember too many rules.
I know I isolated her.
I should have told her that I felt isolated from the rest of the world, but for some reason I thought she already knew it and had empathy. My expectations were off, and I hurt my own feelings.
It’s so easy to do, hurting your own feelings because you think you’ve expressed something and you haven’t. I thought I’d done a good job of telling her how lonely I felt, and how having another friend in our family was a good thing because she wasn’t there.
Flying under the radar was not a good thing for us, because it stopped us from enjoying some much-needed sunshine.
I wonder daily what would have happened if we’d met for coffee or lunch after we discovered the other online. If I could have been cool and collected between meeting online and IRL. If I could have saved Dana some jealousy because Aada absolutely is all that and a bag of chips, but not my type (really). I fell in love with her words, not her face. The more the three of us hung out, the more the glaring differences between us would appear and make that love change more quickly into something sustainable because I have no doubt that Dana would have liked Aada better than me.
She just didn’t write to her and get to know her. I did.
Over and over I hurt my own feelings as my relationship with Aada grew, because Dana didn’t have any patience for it and that’s all I needed from her.
I think she hit me because she knew our relationship would be over if she did. That I wouldn’t come back from that. She wouldn’t have to compete with Aada anymore, who was in the process of screaming “why is this happening? I like, didn’t do anything.” She’s right, she didn’t. I was making my own problems.
Aada’s answer was just not to talk about our relationship at all to anyone.
I made that work for years, molding the story to my web site because telling all of you is telling none of you. I control the narrative, so you only see what I want you to see.
Not knowing I had readers capable of putting together puzzle pieces on their own or how close I was getting. I needed guidance, and was flummoxed by getting read the riot act on some days and “lovely post, btw,” on others.
I cannot write the way other people want me to write all the time, but I do realize that with Aada’s special circumstances I should have been louder. More outrageous. Changed more details like telling people we live in Chicago or something.
The thing is that Aada doesn’t check in with me to know what literary devices I’m using to explain my own feelings, so if I tell a lie in order to protect her, she’ll think I’m telling the truth… that lie living in her brain as truth is worthless.
If she’d been smart, she would have gotten me a job as a blogger inside her company so I’d know the rules better than her and could actually write something valuable to all the people around her. Oh, wait. Her shit is boring. I can’t dress it up.
I’m glad that writing prompts are just suggestions, because what came up is what came up. I cannot get a whole essay out of filler words, but it is indeed what launched this essay.
What? Like it’s hard?
Stories That Are All True 