Way back when...

Had lunch with Edmund yesterday (if you care, Edmund was introduced last year in the "Can't We Just be Friends?" entry--given that I'd forgotten his nom de blog, I assume no one else remembers him.)

Long, long ago. Say 1990. I wished that I could be attracted to Edmund. Because long, long ago, I thought he was flirting with me, and I just wasn't attracted to him. And long, long ago, I thought if I could just fall for men in my 'league' and not go do something crazy like fall for a John, it would all work out. And I fell for Edmund. Somewhere along the way. And he appreciated that for his ego. He kept me hanging on. But he never reciprocated.

Edmund and I were definitely in the same league looks-wise. He was 5'5", very thin (although he isn't any more), with a receding hair line in college. So his rejection of me, which was tied with confused manipulation, flirting, and keeping me interested because it was good for his ego, even as he'd complain at least every week that no woman was interested in him, hurt my self esteem greatly. (I should say, I don't think it was conscious on his part--he is a good man and I don't think he ever meant to hurt me. It just happened.)

Edmund was my best friend for 5 years. We got together for 3 or 4 times a week, spoke on the phone every day, for hours each week. I loved him dearly. He is the only man I thought I would marry.

There are also very clear reasons we would have been a disaster; mostly that he is vanilla to his core. And I knew that, and knew I wasn't, and still thought we would marry, and I would have an active fantasy life and not try to deal with that. And, if you believe in astrology (and I do), I have a ton of fire in my chart and no earth, and he has quite a bit of earth, and no fire. And that is a fair representation of the differences between us.

Edmund didn't date for maybe 5 years after I 'broke up' with him, as a friend. (We'd get together every couple of years, so I'd keep tabs on him, but recently, I hadn't kept tabs.) But we had lunch, and as he sat down I noticed his ring. I'm very happy for him, but it was a poignant happiness.

I met his wife, and she is a small town girl, who will be a wonderful mother (they are pregnant with twins) and they have a 20 acre farm, with horses and chickens and pigs. And Edmund is happy. (And just to make this too bizarre in blog world--they are naming their kids Jane and the "John" of this blog's real name. Now, obviously, Edmund's real name isn't Edmund, but Edmund Burke, who I named "Edmund" after, was married to a Jane! --I'd looked up what I wrote about him before we had lunch, so his favorite philosopher to hate was fresh in my mind. And, of course, I kept thinking about John.)

But his wife is such a polar opposite to me. And she is what men are far more likely to want. She is thinner than me (or was, before her pregnancy), wears make-up, laughs easily, is warm and easy-going. She is sweet and genuinely kind. I'm harsher, abrasive. I dislike lots of things (although I'm loyal to the core for the people I love). I have enough of a prissy streak that shoveling out a barn would just not be on my radar, and I love the city. But Edmund and I had scintillating, smart, fast-moving conversations that jumped from idea to idea, plumbing one in depth only to swing like trapeze artists onto another and make connection deep down and spread out, bringing in more ideas and more ideas and more ideas. That, and his laughing, sparkling, dancing eyes were why I loved him SO much. His wife isn't dumb in any way, but she is thinks and talks slowly. Edmund seems on a different speed setting with her than the Edmund I knew.

I'm happy for him, but sad for me. It seems to me, a lot of the time, that I'd make a much better man in our society than a woman. Or a better Dominatrix than submissive. The Republican is e-mailing me once a week saying things like "I wish I had you in a cage right now" (because it would kill him to just ask me out for coffee) and another young'un (25!) can't remember my name but e-mails me every couple of days for a 'kinky massage,' and then this sweet man, who is clearly a little kinky but not very, is maybe smitten with me (although we haven't met, so how can he be?) but I just don't know that I could be attracted to him!!!! I wished once to be attracted to someone I wasn't. I'll never make that wish again.