Missed the Boat: The Ginger Man (6/25/2010)

The night I first met Robert was the day before a massive winter snow storm. The skies in New York were calm and blue; giving no hint of their intention. On our second night together, the day of the storm, Robert was clear on his intentions.

Robert was in town for a gathering of our mutual friends. We were all packed into a bar, drinking and talking until early in the morning. When we poured out of the bar before sunrise the city was blanketed in inches fresh white snow. Flakes were sticking to my face and eyelashes. Robert wrapped me in his scarf shielding me from the winter storm.

“I’m going to be back in the city next week” he told me “I’d like to see you again, to take you out”

The city was empty. Me, wrapped in his scarf looking back into his eyes, nothing around us but snow and silence. It was almost cinematic. Almost. If only I’d said yes.

Robert was a Midwestern and still living in “one of those flat states in the middle”. I was just coming out of a relationship that made me feel like I was a part-time job. With Robert being hundreds of miles away, anything with him could only be long distance and I didn’t need any more distant relationships. To avoid the end, I stopped the beginning.

Robert and I ended up getting to know each other more over his numerous trips to New York through the years. That irony of relationships developed and as I slowly allowed myself to open up, he slowly began to pull away. Then he disappeared.

It wasn’t until more than two years later that Robert reemerged in my life and in New York. Two friends from that first blustery day in New York were making a trip to the city. I met up with them at The Ginger Man after work. When I hugged and greeted my friends it was a moment before I recognized Robert standing with them.

Over the next two days, it became clear why I didn’t immediately recognize Robert. Something was different, we were different. After years with no interaction there was so much distance between us that I could feel my voice echo when I tried to talk to him. So I didn’t talk to him and the weekend passed in palpable discomfort.

I thought by swallowing my emotions all those years before I was protecting myself, but somehow I managed to get hurt anyway. There were a lot of years between Robert and I that haven’t been there before. And I wondered if I made a mistake; if I should have given him my heart four years ago and let him break it.

Maybe it is better to have loved and lost. Especially if you end up losing when you never got to play the game.

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