Fare thee well, oh my honey

I broke up with Mara on Friday. The day she came home from Florida, when she asked me on the phone if we were ok, was when I knew I couldn't put it off any longer. I told her it was late, she was tired from her trip and I was tired just because. We'd talk on Friday, I told her. Now wasn't the best time.

For the next two days, I thought about the pending break up the way I'd think about an upcoming root canal. I knew it was the right thing to do---hell, I knew fairly early on, but wanted to, because she was so sweet, give it more time to see if I'd feel any differently---but knowing didn't prevent the doubts from surfacing or stifle the urge to delay, once again, the inevitable.

When Friday hit, I felt better about what I had to do. I showed up at her apartment and wasn't there long before she put her arms around me, broke down and said she could feel me slipping away. Short of replying "Funny you should say that", I told her I was sorry but I couldn't be her boyfriend anymore.

The next half hour was difficult. Mara appealed to me to give her another chance and it broke my heart to hear it. I told myself I had to be strong and congruent. I couldn't waiver. Everything I had thought to say to her went out the window; I could do little but hold her and try to fend off the tears that would not be held back. I held her and cooed in her ear that it would be alright, everything would be alright.

Things got better. We talked in her kitchen and I was thrilled she didn't tell me to leave. We watched an old home movie---her mother's fiftieth birthday party from '92---and walked over to the grocery store via the tunnel she discovered off of Somerville Ave. When we returned, I washed her dishes, which had piled up high in her sink, while she answered some emails. I joined her when I was done and she showed me a picture she had taken of me. I asked her when it was taken. "The night we met", she replied.

When it was time for me to leave, Mara told me she didn't want me to go. Even knowing breaking up was the right decision, I felt horrible, like a villain, a betrayer of the highest order. I resisted the urge, which, out of compassion, was strong, to tell her that I wasn't going anywhere, wouldn't leave her for the world.

Instead, I told her I was sorry, but I had to go. The image of her curled up on her bed weeping, will be a hard one for me to shake, I'm afraid. I went over to the bed and curled up next to her and kissed her on the cheek. A few minutes later, she saw me to the door. We made tentative plans to see each other soon.

I called Spira on my way home. I told her what happened and got a little choked up in the process. John Wayne I am not.

I went to Walden Pond with Spira and Sarah the following morning. Sarah was the one who introduced me to Mara. If I hadn't met Mara that night, I was going to ask out Sarah. And there I was, the day after breaking up with Mara, hanging out at Walden with Sarah. In a way, things had come full circle.

It was good being out with friends. It was a gorgeous day. We swam and took a walk around the pond, stopping at the site of Thoreau's cabin. It was a strange experience in some ways; I was still raw emotionally from the night before, but also finding myself very attracted to Sarah. My life had taken an interesting turn, to be sure.

After Walden, I took a nap and woke to the sound of my cell phone buzzing. It was Luke Warm. He was pulling up to my street and was about to head over to the Burren to join the pub crawl that was assembled in honor of Michael and Pete's birthdays. It was almost six o'clock. Pretty early to start drinking, but this was the Woburn crew we were meeting up with, and they are professional drinkers.

At the Burren, I spotted Monet, a woman I had gone on a date with a few years ago. I had met her at a party and was instantly attracted to her. I told Foley outside over cigarettes that I was enchanted and wanted to ask her out. I didn't that night, but a month later, after hanging out with her and Spira a few times, I finally did.

The date didn't go very well, judging by the fact that none followed. We lost touch and that was that. For some reason, on Friday night I asked Mara if she had ever met Monet. I don't know what made me think of her, but I figured that, because the two of them lived in the same city and had similar interests, they may have crossed paths. Mara said the name didn't ring a bell.

Curious that I saw Monet the next day. She was with a guy I assumed was her boyfriend, and I didn't say anything to her, particularly because the pub crawl had begun and everyone was making their way to Redbones, but also because she had given me a look of recognition and then turned away quickly. I know that look, have given it myself before. I didn't feel much like talking to her anyway at that moment; it would have been awkward and uncomfortable and I'd already had one of those conversations the night before. And besides, she blew me off, flicked me away like a mosquito on her arm. Mara would never have done that. Made me wonder if the Universe was trying to tell me something. Can't think like that, though. I did what needed to be done, however much I wanted it to work out.

I left the pub crawl when it was leaving Christopher's and heading into Harvard Sq. I walked home with a buzz and enjoyed the beautiful evening. Luke Warm came by around three and crashed on our couch. We had some fruit and coffee for breakfast and then he left to to go back to New Hampshire to ride in The Kremlin's boat.

I went to Newbury Comics with Craig in tow and traded in a bunch of cd's. There was a bunch of stuff I wanted to get: The Acorn, Vetiver, Vampire Weekend, Bonnie Prince Billy, and possibly Jose Gonzalez. I ended up getting discs from all of the above, except J.G.. Instead, I picked up a cd of tranquil African music, which is sublime.

Mara called this afternoon and we had a nice conversation. After talking about our respective Saturday nights, she told me that she felt pretty good today, that little remained of the hurt that she had felt on Friday. I was overjoyed at the news. It seemed that things were going to be alright, that we were going to remain friends.

Oh, Mara, you are quite a woman. Thank you for understanding and being one of the kindest, sweetest, women I've ever met. I am honored to be your friend, to have you in my life. You are one of the good ones.