I still have to move on, but I have no idea as to how I’m going to do it.
The remaining days at work had their rough moments, each serving to remind me why I intend to resign effective the end of July, and steeling my resolve therewith. And sometimes I’d just be a little bit tired, closing off my calls with, “Well, thank you very much for calling Sprint, together with Nextel, and my name is Will,” instead of the more mainstream, “have a wonderful day.” I guess all jobs have their ups and downs, though; it’s just that this one doesn’t quite cut it for a long-term stay.
Saturday was both Canada Day and my stepfather’s birthday. We had a little barbeque and get together here at the house. In the evening we had originally planned to go to my Uncle Cliff’s house on the Dartmouth waterfront to see the fireworks, and so I regretfully turned down a quick invitation from Mrs. B. to come down for the evening and join their little party. (I guess it was well that I did.)
After 9pm, I realized that my mother and stepfather weren’t actually going to go anywhere, and that I was free for the evening (my assistance would have been necessary to get Paul and his wheelchair into Uncle Cliff’s). Ryan had invited me to his BBQ via MSN, so I suddenly got the idea to call Tanya and see if she’d like to go.
So I called Tanya, and got Mrs. B. – Tanya was sequestered on the phone with her “boyfriend.” This was news to me, so I asked, “Oh, you mean Alex?” Yes, it was Alex, who I thought was halfway across the country right now. (Rats.) Knowing how attractive that vacuous, innocuous, simpleton-yet-Mensan is to her, I just gave up and said I’d be going to Ryan’s BBQ – tell her if you like.
I also called Catherine, and to my delight she was already there when I arrived. They all booted me out of the house to retrieve marshmallows, but I was back in plenty of time to catch the fireworks, which we watched from the nearby bridge.
Later on we’re having a lively conversation in front of the fire, and Catherine and Ryan are talking about when they first met. Ryan thought for a moment that it was at Mike Fox’s party (a very good, but not quite accurate guess), and he even proactively mentioned that it was the night he massaged Tanya for 2+ uninterrupted hours. I was still vaguely sore about that even unto last night, and I kind of tore into him about it. I won’t repeat the language I used here – not to say that I was swearing per se, but I probably crossed over the line of friendly joshing.
Don’t worry; they had a leg up on me:
“Um, Will, when did you last to talk to Tanya?”
“Tuesday! We went to the park.”
“And what’s new with Tanya?”
“Well, she broke up with D****e, she’s starting new courses on the 4th, she’s hanging around with this Alex guy a lot…”
Catherine chimed in, “Do you think she’ll tell him?”
Ryan, “I don’t think she’ll ever tell him. She’ll probably deny it for years!”
“What? What is it? What?” (repeat, ad nauseum)
_juju_: “Cricket, cricket.”
The rest may be best left to your imagination. Thanks to the help of my friends, I was able to laugh a bit again, but even unto this morning I’m still in a state of shock. This caught me completely off-guard; I mean, I guess it’s none of my business who Tanya likes (except that I’m sometimes deluded that it’s me), but I even heard it from Alex that they were just friends not that long ago (well, more than two months ago, I suppose, and I guess a lot can happen in that time, but I thought he’d had built his VW Beetle and was 5,000 kilometres away by now).
Do they have a ring and a date? No. But wait, why do I care? Why does this have to hurt so much? Why is it so humiliating to accept that I’ve finally, irretrievably, lost the war?
What am I supposed to do now? What do I do the next time I see her? Congratulate her, I guess. #@%&$. I don’t want to. I want a one-way ticket to Neptune.
I suppose, since I’m being so immature about this, I probably don’t deserve her anyway. Actually, everybody who was there says that I can do better, but there’s a big difference between potentially being able to do better and actually doing it.
I feel like I’ve got next to nothing left to live for. I know that soon this will all be just an unpleasant memory, and that I’ll have new values, and I’ll be happier and wiser than ever. I just have no idea how I’m going to get from here to there.