He has amnesia, I try to forget
Alison Bert on November 25th, 2007 | Filed under Dancing, Relationships
OK, here’s what happened. He was in a car accident and survived without a scratch, except for the concussion that left him with amnesia.
That’s the only way I can make sense of things — that is, having a boyfriend for three months who breaks up with me by not calling all week when I was supposed to meet his parents for Thanksgiving.
Over dinner last night, a girlfriend and I made light of the situation. She finally got to tell me what she really thought of this guy. And I told her that he could have been Mahatma Ghandi but the disappearing act was a sure deal-breaker. I mean, the least he could have done was send a text message.
“What was he thinking?!” I said. “He’s going to run into me out dancing, and it’s going to be totally awkward for him.”
I smiled at the prospect, feeling elated that I had the integrity to move on after discovering his true nature.
And I smiled later than evening when I saw him out dancing. “What a jerk,” I said to my friend, secretly hoping he would see what a good time I was having.
But my smile would soon become forced. When he caught my eye, he looked at me like I was a stranger, then averted his eyes.
As a newspaper reporter, I developed a keen ability to understand why people do just about anything. But this had me perplexed.
I’ve never been one to run from the truth. Someone once compared me to a moth seeking the light that will consume it. And so, not wanting to let Mr. No Call off the hook, I took my friend’s suggestion on how to confront him: ask him to dance. In dance etiquette, you don’t turn down a first request. So to the groove of Timbaland, I asked him why he didn’t call.
He didn’t answer and kept on dancing, leading me mechanically though passes and turns. “I thought you died,” I said, at the end of a phrase. Still no answer. “We need to have a conversation,” I stated, looking him in the eye during the final chorus, to which he responded cooly, “There’s nothing to talk about.”
The encounter left me chilled.
“It’s not about you — it’s him,” my friend told me.
Yet here I was desperate to teach him a lesson — and to appear carefree when (darn!) I could feel my eyes starting to well. So much for integrity. I headed for the restroom, but there was a line. As I waited, a gentleman invited me to dance in the salsa room, where a four-piece band was playing. I tried to lose myself in the lively rhythms and festive atmosphere, but dancing was the last thing I felt like doing.
Then something interesting happened. The owner of the studio offered to comp me if I would take some photos. I love photography, so I agreed. For the next hour, I snapped pictures of other people experiencing the joy of dancing, or at least pretending to. It wasn’t my job to decide, only to record the moments in the most artful way I knew how.
And that was enough. Within minutes, my mood had lifted. I had a purpose here, one that was positive and honest.
Walking to Grand Central in the chilly air, I realized there are some issues we will never fully resolve. No matter how badly we want closure, it’s not always within our grasp, not at the moment we seek it, anyway. Sometimes the best we can do is to shift our focus to the things we can control.
On the train home, I ended up smiling for real. Of course it didn’t hurt that the cute 20-something conductor told me I looked amazing. …
November 26th, 2007 at 12:32 pm
Very odd behavior…no doubt. If he can’t handle a little tussle, something is wrong. There are those human trainwrecks out there that don’t deserve the attention that someone like you offers.
November 27th, 2007 at 2:54 pm
I was wondering what happened… Sorry Alison. I know that must hurt regardless of the fact that many men are just not worth the pain. But, as we both know and anyone else who knows you in the slightest - totally his loss.
November 27th, 2007 at 6:45 pm
Thank you, Teri and Mr. K. You are both so thoughtful. I guess it’s time to start a new chapter (or blog post).