Thursday I found out someone I spent an awful lot of time thinking about these past few months was married. It's a complicated story, and I'm going to make the telling of it even more complicated/vague because I still behave like I did in middle school when I like someone -- which is to say that I don't want anyone to know. (Yes, it makes life difficult sometimes!) But ours was a relationship that -- for many reasons I've spent the past few months trying to understand -- never quite got more than a few feet off the ground before he had to leave the country, not to return until this year.
I never imagined one of the reasons it didn't quite work was because he was married.
I don't think he was married when we met, but she must have been around. But I pick endlessly over what I knew about him -- or maybe I should say, what I thought I knew about him -- and I can't find so much as a hint of anyone else. And I'm slightly paranoid by nature.
Perhaps I should just chalk this up as an encounter with one crummy guy. But I can't. Being so wrong about someone terrifies me in ways I can't quite articulate. And the moment of finding out he was married -- not from him, of course. I thought "heart stops" was bad writing or hyperbole or both. Now I know that it is neither.
***
Also Thursday I went round to friends' for dinner. (I know I'm American, but I like saying "went round," dammit!) An American girl engaged to an English guy, and they've just moved to a huge sparkling new flat and bought a Yorkshire terrier.
I loved seeing them, but I felt sad when I went home to my flat - so cramped that even if I did have time to cook there are very few people I'd allow to see the place. My sadness wasn't from loneliness so much as disappointment, I think. Whether I admitted it at the time, part of my moving-to-London fantasy included a nice English guy with whom I'd take minibreaks, drink tea, and go to country pubs -- and eventually stay here for. As I face the prospect of leaving London, perhaps the hardest goodbye will be to one dream that will never come true.
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