Melanie met me at school to see my first classroom. She listened to my speech about how I would organize and decorate the room. Mel said she really needed to talk.
“I really need to talk to you.”
“We are talking! Look at this huge blank wall! I need posters from Universities across the country to cover it! Maybe pennant flags?”
“I really need to ask you something…”
“What? What’s the matter? Are you hungry? There’s an awesome Chinese place down the street. I’m gonna eat there every pay day! Look, I already picked up a menu and everything to keep in my desk, MY desk!”
“No. I just need to talk and don’t want to here.”
“Well, this is my classroom now. We can come and go as we please… I even have a lock on the door…”
I winked at her, but the implication was somehow lost.
“I’m just kidding with you. Get excited! It’s finally coming together!”
“I’d just feel more comfortable at your place.”
“…”
Anticipation must be like dying in reverse. Instead of your life flashing before your eyes, it’s possibilities in the form of what-ifs. Multiple what-ifs flooding the head; it’s suffocating. It’s an unexpected nothing until the curtain is pulled back. No one knows why we try and predict it, but it’s the paranoid that know the benefits of expecting the worst. So we keep trying.
My what-ifs sprouted practical scenarios. Maybe her cat died. She might have been torn up about a speeding ticket. It was possible that there was drama with some co-workers. I started getting angry. Anything can upset a female! I started assuming there must be a loss of life in the family. She needed me to go with her to a funeral. That must be it; she would be worried about whether I could get time off so soon. Now I was worried about whether I could get time off so soon for a funeral! I wish it were as easy as someone dying. Instead, Melanie really wanted to know:
“Is our relationship going anywhere?”
Like the sweet grasp of death, every man knows this conversation inevitable, but nothing can quite prepare us. I might have even stopped breathing at that moment. Life paused. A list of top ten things worrying me thirty minutes ago began to manifest:
10. I’m responsible for all my finances now.
9. I have college debts that need to be paid (yes, that does include bar tabs).
8. I have to learn a new curriculum…
7. …and make lesson plans.
6. I have to create a Creative Writing syllabus!
5. I have to make nice with co-workers (who are probably more qualified than me).
4. Holy s***! I’m not qualified or confident enough to teach Grammar!
3. My parents are struggling because of my dad’s new career choice.
2. I haven’t had any ME time lately.
Finally, the number one thing on my mind among everything else was of course…
1. I hope Melanie doesn’t bring up whether “this relationship is going anywhere” right as my career was starting.
We talked, or rather, she talked and I froze. Needless to say, I wasn’t prepared for this conversation. No one is considering the circumstances. I was freaked and angry. This was supposed to be my day. Instead, a girlfriend wanted to know where she fit. She was crying. I was going to once she looked away. So I sat on my couch with my dog and looked up at her and said the only rationale thing that came to mind:
“I think you should leave.”
And after shedding many tears and venting many frustrations, that’s exactly what she did.
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