I Knew This Guy Once

In January, 2000 I feel in love. Hard. Bad love. Actually, it began when I heard his name several months earlier, but that is neither here nor there.

I feel in love in January. I knew I was in trouble in March, on a boat, when sitting reading on the deck, rounding the bottom of South America, I thought to myself, if he's not in love with me in four days, I'm moving on!

He and I spent seven and a half months together, with only 22 other people, far away from everything else. And it was magical. HUGE, big, wonderful DRAMA. I loved him more than I have ever loved anyone -- except Chris, of course -- and I knew that nothing that felt this HUGE could be untrue.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not.

He and I worked together. Matter of fact, I worked for him. And we became fast friends. During the day, he wouldn't spend more than about an hour apart from me before he would call or come by or check in. Many, many evenings after work we would sit in his tent, away from the others, and talk and cry and talk and talk and DRINK, like fishes, and then sometimes he would kiss me good night and he would tell me how much I meant to him. But he would also say things like "Oh, no, no. I told myself I wouldn't get involved on the ice." "I really have to focus on my career." "No, no, no! I'm incapable of love." And he would also say, "You're the type of girl a man marries." And, my personal favorite, "I love you, Beth."

When I left this far away place, he gave me a piece of crepe ribbon which, the night before, had acted as a ceremonial ribbon, opening the building we had rebuilt together. He gave me that crepe ribbon and told me I was "his other half." And we cried and we held onto each other and I walked alone to my boat.

And I loved him. My other half. I LOVED him.

He stopped writing on December 7, 2000. Just stopped. And it was the next January when I got the letter . . . "No, no, no, Beth. I never meant to mislead you." I cried and freaked out for days.

Then the Great Goddess played her first trick. When the construction manager at my station couldn't winter, they decided to bring Him in at the last minute to replace him. He would come in and I would go away. And I was supportive and helpful and kind . . . and forgave him my hurt.

And we wrote a lot. And he would call on the phone. And I loved him again . . . and I knew once he came around, he would come around for me.

And then I came back and he went away. And a few months later, when he was about to come back and I was about to go away, I found out he had traveled with his ex-girlfriend. So much for "focusing on his career." And I cried and freaked out for days. And when he did finally come back . . . I was supportive and helpful and kind . . . and forgave him my hurt.

And this went on for three more years.

And then it was time for him to leave the program, and I had just come back and he was about to leave, and we had The Big Talk. What do we become, then? And I told him I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't be his friend because it hurt too much. And he told me he wouldn't let me go! He would never let me not be his friend. I told him I didn't want that. And he said he would move to Chicago to follow me (I was threatening to move to Chicago at the time . . . I never actually did). And I was strong and said, "No, no, no." And I loved him still, and I was supportive and helpful and kind, and I told him to go on his Vision Quest and to let me know what he decided.

Which he did.

And when I heard back from him he was lost and working in Seattle and sad. And I was supportive and helpful and kind . . . and forgave him my hurt. And then he disappeared. And when he called again, lost and sad, I was supportive and helpful and kind. And then he disappeared again. And when next I heard from him, he had accepted a job back at the DHQ, working with my group.

And what I KNEW in my heart was that he was finally true . . . he finally wasn't going to let me not be his friend. And I was supportive and helpful and kind.

When he arrived in town, working full time with us and ready to go back to that far away place, I invited him to dinner . . . and he didn't speak to me for four days. And I was devastated with hurt. It took months of whimpering to girlfriends and a trip to a shaman to make that hurt stop. The shaman took him out of my heart. And I was better. And I worked with him for a year, almost unscathed.

And today he quit.

He's moving away.

And you know what sucks?

Now I really am going to have to see that he COULD let me not be his friend. That he didn't come back for me at all.

Whether I want to admit it or not.