Mark Is Led Around By His Halo
A woman called me crying today.
No, it wasn't my fault.
This girl I've known for a little while and always had a really awkward rapport with calls me up, clearly upset, and asks me if I want to go out for some beers. I tell her I'd love to, but I have an essay to write. While this is true, I was in fact playing a video game at the time.
I don't want to meet this woman for beers. Every time we hang out, she exposits her life. I know her parents are in dire need of a divorce, and why. I know the ins and outs of her long-term relationship with a very nice boy that she doesn't want to be with because he's boring, but doesn't want to let go of because he's a sure thing (seriously fucked). I know about the other guys she's dating at the same time (double fucked). I know her mediocre academic career, the catty drama with her roommates, all about where she grew up, her boring high school romances, that she's an only child (surprise!), and her fashionable contempt for conventional society.
Her favorite band is Enya. I don't think she even knows my last name.
EDIT: This is the real kicker, for me. Out of the seven times we've talked on the phone, five of them have been while she's upset. The other two were same-day callbacks.
So she calls me crying and using the offer for beers as a thin veil to cover the real thrust of her intention: she wants someone to listen to her and make her feel good.
And I do.
-- --
Before this, and coloring my perception of the status of people who call me with problems, I had a conversation with someone else who thought his life was shit- and he was right.
A very close friend of mine- who in spite of our tense and awful relationship has always had my back- calls me and tells me that his girlfriend of many years broke up with him after a horrible, godawful weekend that made him question his values, path in life, religion and mortality.
He was going to propose to her. For him, that's on par with self-castration, but he was willing to do it for her.
-- --
So this girl tells me all about her problem- which is a pain to be sure- and then she says something that resonates with me. She tells me that she has no one to talk to about these sorts of things.
Suddenly I'm committing to meet her on Friday. I don't even know how that happened- I swear there was some momentary lapse in consciousness, and I only come to just as these words have left my lips. Even as I hear her draw breath for a triumphant smile through the phone line, I curse myself for the umpteenth time for not being fast enough to snatch words out of the air before they reach anyone's ears.
Life would be so much easier if I was faster than a speeding bullet. Outside of bed, for a change.
She immediately stops crying. Immediately. Like a switch. I've been had! I knew it was coming- I dreaded it- but still it was a surprise when I heard the instant change. I've been set up!
The blasted woman knows the key to the paper mache gates of my heart- just call me up crying and tell me no one loves you.
EDIT: @12:33am 4/15/09
Let me make a point here: I have no desire to have sex with this woman. I don't want to make out with her hungrily in private, or sneak quick kisses with her in public. I don't want to look longingly into her eyes. I don't even want to hold her hand.
But I do want her not to feel so bad.
Goddamnit, Mark. This is a bad idea.