Allegory of a Bartender and a Young Lady

It’s like pulling teeth to even get me to write this down. To get it out of my head so that I can look at it and see the reality. My Therapist is supportive of my feeling this way. She calls it romance. She thinks it is healthy for me to like someone and go visit and get special attention. She likes the butterflies and thinks I have a handle on what is and what will be. But I know better. And last night, I think I crossed the line. Oh God, this is hard. Difficult to keep typing. Let’s start with the facts:

I go and see him every so often.
Sometimes he’s too busy to talk to me.
Sometimes he doesn’t know what to say.
He always gives me something for free.
The last two times, when I couldn’t stay very long, he wanted me to stay longer and lured me with another drink.
I always thought he was quiet towards me because he was not so interested, or perhaps worried about getting caught for past indiscretions (ie: the two of us in the storeroom). But I am realizing now it is probably because he likes me and doesn’t know what to say.
And recently, perhaps always but I’m not sure, I have not initiated any conversation.
So we both just sit there, or rather I sit and he goes about his business. Both just happy to be in the other’s presence. Both to scared to speak –for fear of embarrassment, or maybe even fear of ruining the fantasy. I can only speak for myself, but I have not filled in any blanks. I don’t have any expectations about what he does on his days off, or what his secret hopes and dreams may be. I haven’t made up any back-story about why he left Ireland to come live in New York.
But I am dying to know. All of the above and more. Does he live with anyone? Is he happy? Where’s his family? Does he ever see them? Does he hate them? How old was he when he moved? How educated is he? Does he have more tattoos than the spider web on his right elbow and the mini version on his left forearm? Who’s the saint around his neck? Does he wear that every day?

I am completely convinced that he still has my phone number –which I gave him when I first met him 3 and a half years ago. (or was it four and a half?) I know that it is sitting in the back of some drawer or on a bulletin board, or in a pile or a box somewhere. But it is there. Not thrown out. He knows exactly where it is. And he can’t use it. He wasn’t comfortable back then –when he claimed he would stalk me. And he is not comfortable now. Now, I might not even have the same number. And even though I would literally FLY if he were to call, he can’t. There’s no precedent for it. And something he said yesterday makes me think that he thinks he’s not good enough for me. He said “look at you. You’re leaving. You’re going on a cruise. …(mumble mumble ..something about a lowly bartender or only a bartender..” I never really thought about his perspective before. I did once, the time I was worried about him thinking me a whore. But maybe it’s something along the lines of:

here’s this woman who floats in and out of the bar unexpectedly. Just about every time she’s in there, some men take notice of her and chat with her and buy her drinks and maybe kiss her or go home with her. They ask me about her or mention her to me. And she comes in and charms everyone and sometimes I am lucky enough to be with her for 15 minutes on my break. And she’s sexy and beautiful and smart and funny. And she plays softball for her office. And she’s successful and is going on a cruise. And she knows a lot of people getting married and is traveling around for those occasions. And she speaks with a decent Irish accent when she tries. And she always always always orders Stoli Vanil with Diet Coke -except for the one time when I expected it and she ordered a Heinekin. And we are both 29. And she is really something. And she comes to see me sometimes. And I like that. And I like her. And what can I offer her?

And I’ve always known that nothing could really happen. He’s not going to give up Christmas and convert. Let me repeat that. HE’S NOT GOING TO GIVE UP CHRISTMAS AND CONVERT. HE’S NOT GOING TO GIVE UP CHRISTMAS AND CONVERT. HE’S NOT GOING TO GIVE UP CHRISTMAS AND CONVERT. HE’S NOT GOING TO GIVE UP CHRISTMAS AND CONVERT. It seems like my only options are:

A) Stay like it is now and be elated and then sad and then avoid it for a while and elated and sad and avoid it for a while…
B) Try to move forward and be embarrassed when he is not interested
C) Move forward and then be disappointed by what I found out
D) Move forward and then be heartbroken when it is so great and then can’t work out.

And I know that ultimately he can never be as amazing as I think he is now. And whatever he thinks of me, I probably am not either. And I am trying REALLY HARD to focus on that fact. That this is the best part. The part with the anticipation. The part with the excitement. The part where anything is possible. But it’s not enough anymore. I have a horrible habbit of never leaving anything be. I could drag this out for 5 more years or until I am married. If I was a healthy person who just needed a fix of attention. But I’m not that person. That’s what I mean when I said that last night I crossed the line. I don’t just need a little extra attention anymore. I have vivid dreams about him sometimes. And I wake up needing to see him. and then I sit in the bar and am just so happy to be looking at him (incidentally that was one of the things that I hated about the Beach Boy) and happy to see him smile at me and deeply affected when I notice his genuine look of shock and disappointment when I tell him I have to go after one drink. A tactic that is not meant to be playing games, just keeping a healthy distance –for my own sanity. And to ensure that I get the rest of the things done that evening that I absolutely need to (ie: picking up cruise tickets from UPS depot, and picking up the fabulous dress for the Montreal cocktail party from the lady who shortened the straps before it gets too late). And what am I going to do anyway??? Stay for my usual 4-6 drinks and get hammered and hope that we go downstairs at some point? Then have to share his attention for hours. And the couple times I really doubted myself and was drunk enough to approach him and say that he should tell me not to come by anymore if that’s what he wants, but phrased it awkwardly so he thought I meant we should post-party together and he tells me –oh no, I ..blahblahblah… making excuses why he can’t that morning. Which I should probably pay attention to as proof that I should really never ask to move forward. Maybe he doesn’t want to know more about me. Maybe he is just happy with the mystery woman who comes and goes as she pleases. OR MAYBE lately he has been appreciating the attention, or feeling more of the connection. WHY is it that he always wants me to stay. Why is it that he is hesitant to speak to me. Why is it that he insulted himself when thinking of my cruise. Could he really think that I just see him as a replaceable play thing? And why don’t I????

Shit. I could keep going for hours, but I’m going to stop after these last 50 minutes. Get my nails done and see what else comes up.