random Mr. Star sighting, and a mortifying situati

Oof.

After Vespers, Father asked if I would like to stand in for Matushka at a fundraising banquet they’d been invited to.  I had actually considered going to this banquet myself, so this clinched it.  The man who invited us?  The father of the earring-giver.  Oh dear.  I don’t actually want to name these people in OD land yet.

Oh, and just for fun, I’ll mention that the father of the earring-giver TOLD him to ask me two summers ago.  Apparently he’d had some crummy dating experiences and he said, "It’s obvious.  You need to be with Music Shivers."

I didn’t know that until this guy actually asked me to go kayaking with him this last summer.  But I didn’t know if it was a date.  I wasn’t sure.  It kind of seemed like one, what with him paying for everything, but … I just didn’t KNOW in my gut that it was.  Anyway, we’ve been, as far as I know, "not dating" ever since.  It has been very fun "not dating" him.  At least, after ONE talk where he told me that dating was not his intent, and that he may be leaving soon anyway, we haven’t talked about it explicitly since.  And I am not going to think differently about our friendship until he Uses His Words (or lips or hands or something … ) to very obviously move us into a new stage, since he made it so very clear that we *weren’t* dating.

Anyway, blah blah blah, I’m boring even myself writing this out.  I have a terror of making this the depository of another story that goes nowhere.  But I’m mentioning it because of something really heartbreaking and funny that happened tonight.

So, the dad of this guy is really eager about me.  Apparently he has even slobbered over the phone to his son about our possible children (I am told).

My priest and I arrive at the dinner and this guy seats us at a table next to his stepmom and her second husband (so this would be the stepgrandparents of earring/kayaking man, I guess).  Then he sits down at the table next to ours, and I follow him with my eyes, and encounter – MR. STAR.  In the flesh.  Bearded (that’s different).  Mr. Star and his mother are at the banquet.  We smile.  He is staring at me.  Like the sight of me still makes him go, "…. wow."  I am slightly spooked by this coincidence.

Someone on stage is telling a story, and kayak guy’s father leans over to his stepmom, and says, VERY AUDIBLY: "The girl sitting next to you is dating my son!"

"Is it serious?" she asks.

I think I hear him say, "My son thinks it’s serious.  Music Shivers is a serious kind of girl!"

I’m looking straight ahead of me pretending not to hear this, but after a few moments, I can’t help turning around, with heaven only knows what kind of expression on my face.  Pleading, probably.  The man beams back at me happily.  Mr. Star looks miserable.

I want to take the centerpiece on the table and turn it into an elaborate mask, so that I can laugh or be angry or stream tears freely …  It’s just too insane.  I SWEAR THERE ARE A TEAM OF WRITERS CREATING MY LIFE AND GIGGLING OVER WHAT A GREAT SITCOM IT’LL MAKE.

—

On the ride back to Father’s, where I had parked my car, we talk quite a bit about my adventure of yesterday (trying to see myself as a diamond-able woman), and this kayaking guy and his father, and the Ridiculously Unnameable Orthodox Guy, and Mr. Star, and . . . somewhere in there, as he’s saying it will be part of my growth to learn to respond to affection, I mention J and something that happened between us half my lifetime ago.  A part of me can’t believe this still bothers me.  I said, "I know that I tend to insist on words to be spoken first and relationships to be defined before I express myself physically with a man.  The very first time I was that open and free with myself, I completely believed that the miracle had happened and my feelings were fully returned.  It was devastating to find out that he hadn’t meant anything by his romantic actions, which had spoken loudly and clearly to me the message that I was loved."  J has said sorry for this multiple times in our friendship and we are still lifetime chums, but I guess I really do have a problem with touch meaning SO MUCH to me (like with Mr. Cosmic Clarinet, who, again, was not speaking the same language as me).

This seemed to open me up to my repressed anxiety around my current unsettled state.

In my own car, on my way home, I actually said aloud, "I don’t want to like you this much … I don’t want to get hurt … " to the absent kayaking guy, who has been aloof this week – probably busy with his projects, but honestly, probably not wanting a girlfriend in me right now.  When I heard myself say that aloud, I began to weep – big, gasping sobs, that frightened me.  I got light-headed as if I was hyperventilating.  I haven’t cried like that in years.  It was good just to admit to myself that I’m really afraid.  I have been so used to my singlehood and my sad stories about myself.  I am scared to trust someone and grow to like them a lot … all the CDs, all the letters, all the trying-to-be-helpful-to-their-careers stuff, all the unconditional acceptance, – I just don’t think I’m up for it again, if it’s all going to be a dead end again.  But after admitting these thoughts and feelings, I grew very calm.  Whatever happens or doesn’t happen to me, I am God’s.