I’ve decided, after lots of thinking, more thinking, and possibly a little over thinking, I’m going to let The Young One go. I’ve been considering it since our last get together, which was over a month ago. While we’ve had some brief texting conversations and one phone conversation since then, I’ve cancelled on him twice and haven’t thought too much about him, in that “missing him/wanting to see him” kind of way. My thoughts with respect to him have been more like “what am I going to do about him?”
I’ve finally decided.
The friend with a nice benefit will be demoted to “friend” with no benefit, beyond my sparkling personality. It’ll be interesting to see if we maintain a friendship. But I’m not overly concerned about it.
I’ve said a million times I live a busy life. I work a pretty intense (but oh so fabulous) primary job; do contract work periodically; have two boys who absorb lots of my time, (even though one of them is grown); a gigantic dog that requires love and attention and I run, bike, and hike. A lot.
My spare time was short to begin with, but with summer approaching its even less and I’ve decided as fun as it was to have two men to spend time with – it’s too much work. So I gotta let one go.
I had occasion to spend some more time with “B” after he took me to lunch that Saturday I wrote about (here). It was not pleasant and he’ll be hard pressed to get me to respond to an email, answer a call, or any text that he sends me. To think I was as heartbroken over this man as I was ten months ago is laughable. I’d delete all my original posts about him if this wasn’t an online diary of sorts and if they didn’t clearly remind me of how deeply entrenched I was. Which, in turn, reminds me of who I am right now, and the me I’m striving to be going forward.
I will not say any more about my last meeting with B, but I will tell you that after it was over I thought about the three men I’ve had in my life. B, Blue Eyes, and the Young One. I wondered if they all stood before me and I could only choose one, which I would choose. The answer was simple and came really quickly.
Four and a half months ago, when I was still enthralled with the Young One, I asked him if he wanted to go to Newport with me in June. Of course he said yes. The boy doesn’t drive. I was offering him a ride to the coast, a free place to stay (because I’d already rented a house), and sex. All he had to do was occupy himself while I ran the marathon. Four and a half months ago that seemed like a good idea.
A few weeks ago I looked at it realistically and came to the decision that it wasn’t.
The Newport Marathon is in less than two weeks. I am completely and utterly freaked out about it. I’m afraid I won’t be able to do it. I’m afraid I’ll crash and burn like I did in April. And while I know how to continue to put one foot in front of the other and get out there and try, I don’t know how to be unafraid.
So it dawned on me what I need, whether I finish the marathon or not, is solid emotional support. Before, during and after the run. The Young One is nothing if he’s not apathetic. There is really very little he cares about outside of smoking weed, having a good time and sex. He is capable of showing interest, and he’s even capable of showing concern – he’s done it in our short relationship on occasion and I am always touched by it (because he really is a nice guy) but apathy is predominant with respect to my running trials and tribulations. While that’s okay, it’s not what I’m going to need.
I told him some things had changed and I couldn’t take him to Newport with me and then I invited Blue Eyes. Blue Eyes generally works on Saturday but believes he will be able to take the day off – he won’t know for sure, however, until the Wednesday before. Even if he can’t go, the Young One will not go. I’d rather go alone, and invite some of the chicks to stay at the house with me, than go with the Young One. Says a lot.
I’ve told Blue Eyes about my fears for this marathon and while he doesn’t blow smoke up my ass, he says a lot of encouraging, positive things more in line with what I need to hear.
I usually hit the wall around mile 18. I told him I’d probably call him when I got there so he could say something encouraging to me. You know what he said? “I’ll just be at mile 18. No call will be necessary.”
Handy, thoughtful, and so kind.
Yep. I’m ready to let the Young One go.