I spoke with Ben on Tuesday night and he’s completely messed up; he can’t understand what happened and where it all went wrong. Of course, having spent a considerable amount of time listening to Mel that day, I knew exactly what was going on with her and why.

But of course I can’t tell him that. That’s her place to make him understand as best she can. The only reason I get it at all is because I’ve been in such a similar situation. I’ll have to tell that story another time. Of course I love Ben and want to give him all the support I can during a time like this – they are going to do a sort of trial separation – but I’m afraid to give him any remark or comfort resembling hope. It’s not that I don’t believe something could change in Mel’s heart, but I can’t offer hope of that and I know it’s what he wants to hear.

I can hardly even think of it without wondering, wondering, wondering. So I have to think about something else.

I mentioned briefly in my last post that I had started dating a guy from work a few weeks ago. I can’t name this one after his job like I do so many others, because “Talent Acquisition Specialist” doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue (or the keyboard) nicely. So I’ll call him Kayak because he has one and I dig that. We have similar interests in outdoorsy things and taste in films. He lived in France for a year and will watch subtitled Audrey Tautou movies with me, and not just “Amelie.” He’s affectionate and will hold my hand while we walk to dinner and cuddle me when we watch movies. He’s cute and has admitted to having a crush on me for some time. It’s been about 2 ½ weeks now and Kayak and I have seen each other a lot – it’s been moving rather quickly, but it’s been nice. Captain, schmaptain.

And then E.

He texted me over the weekend, saying he really wants to talk to me, thinks of me all the time, and that at his Metro stop near my work he’s gotten off and looked for my car in the parking lot to leave me a note because he was too nervous to tell me what he had to say. He never did leave that note, and I texted back that if he wants to talk, he should call me. He did, and we talked for about 45 minutes on Saturday afternoon. It was the first time I’d heard his voice since the day I gave him all of his stuff back in early June. He apologized over and over for the way he’d treated me, and I have to confess that although I accepted his apologies, I did light into him about WHY what he did was wrong.

“You LIED when you said you didn’t love me?” I said incredulously. “You lied. About that.”

“Yes. I’m still in love with you, I never stopped.”

“Why, of all things, would you lie about loving me?” I practically yelled. “You ripped my heart out when you said that!”

“Look, I was scared, and it was the stupidest thing to be scared of and it was the stupidest thing to lie about and I’ve regretted it ever since. I acted for the dumbest reasons and felt pressure from other people–“

“Which is a FINE reason for making decisions about our relationship, really. I love when you use that as an excuse.”

“I’m so sorry, I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. I know you don’t trust me, but I really am.”

“Well,” I said evenly, “for future reference, when you want to know what a girl wants from you and from your relationship, you should ask HER. No one else. And when you let other people’s pressure to get married or not get married or whatever make decisions for you, then you’re not a man about it.”

He was silent. I was seething. “Say something,” I demanded.

“I need to see you. I need to see you to talk about this.”

“We can do that,” I sighed.

“I’ll call you later this week when I get my work schedule,” he said quickly. “We’ll go get coffee, something. I promise I will call you.”

“Okay.”

Then came Monday night and everything with Mel and Ben, and I needed him more desperately than I ever had before. We’d had arguments before about how I felt he was dismissive sometimes when I was upset, but on Monday when I called him, he dropped everything and came over. Some of that is documented in my last post. Some of it is here.

When my tears for Mel and Ben were spent for the time being, the conversation turned back to our own breakup. “I’ve been seeing someone,” I said abruptly as we sat on the porch in silence.

“Really.”

“Just for a little while. It’s nothing serious.”

“Why isn’t he here with you tonight?”

“Because I needed you,” I said simply.

“It’s so weird that this all happened tonight of all nights,” he said.

“Why?”

“I talked to my dad today.” E’s dad has had two failed marriages and is a bitter, cynical old man. He warns his sons that women poke holes in condoms to get pregnant and demand shotgun weddings. He’s never minded me but I am a woman and therefore not to be trusted with his son.

“And?”

“He was glad about the changes I’m making in my life, of course.” E finally, FINALLY left The Restaurant and got another job. He’s still in the restaurant industry and working as a line cook and not as the big-cheese chef anymore, which of course is not ideal, but at least now he’s at the Four Seasons, making more money and not in that shitbox working for those idiot owners. E is also moving out of the apartment he’s shared with the stoner roommate and getting his own place. He is making positive changes, the kind he’d always talked about making and never did.

“I’m glad too,” I said. “You needed those things.”

“And so you know my dad, all business,” he said slowly. “He asked me if I had a five-year plan.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “And I do. I want it to be with you. I want you to give me another chance. I want to be with you and move our relationship forward, to build a life with you, to raise a family.” E got down on his knees in front of me and had both my hands in his and for a terrified nanosecond I thought he was going to propose or say something equally stupid. The words just spilled out of his mouth. “I know I’ve fucked up and I haven’t been a man. But I want to be. I’ve been trying, I’ve been making changes and I want to make more. And I need you, I want to do this with you.” He cupped my face in his hands and leaned his forehead against mine.

I closed my eyes.

“You told me the other day that if I want something from a woman I should ask her and no one else,” he continued. “And my dad thought I was an idiot until I looked him in the eye today and said ‘Dad, I love her.’ He shook his head at me and said I should do whatever I want if I’m that sure of myself. And I am. I don’t care if he still thinks I’m an idiot or if he approves and just isn’t telling me. I don’t care. So I’m asking you, only you, to give this another chance.”

“E… I don’t know… I can’t even think…”

“You don’t have to say anything now. I know this is an awful time to ask you to make a decision. But I had to tell you this and when you can make a decision, then make it.”

“Everything is falling apart.” I leaned back in my chair and looked in his eyes. “And now you want everything you said you didn’t want. Do you really mean all this?”

I dropped a tear and he brushed it off my cheek with his thumb. “I’m done lying,” he said.

“I can’t think.”

“Then don’t. Not just yet.”

He stayed with me all night. I lay awake in his arms and didn’t sleep. God, I’d missed those arms. I missed how the shape of his body fit the shape of mine when we lay in bed together. I missed his little beer belly because it made for such good hugs and snuggles and tickles. I missed the smell of him and the way he tangled his hands in my hair when he kissed me, and that he always knew exactly how to kiss me. I missed the way he rolled over in the middle of the night and grabbed me close, buried his head in my neck and made growly noises while he tickled my neck with his tongue. I missed his touch, his voice, his snores, the way he spreads out like a starfish on my bed and I have to shove him at least once a night. I missed playing with his hair in the morning and making the curls fluff out.

I’d missed him like crazy.

Everything he said to me that night was beautiful, and it’s hard for me to believe that he would say those things just because they’re what he thinks I want to hear. I say that because E has really never been that great at knowing what I wanted to hear. There were times I couldn’t shut him up spouting off his own opinions about a subject we’d beaten to a pulp, times when all I ever needed was for him to apologize for something and instead he’d get defensive. So when he said these things – I want to believe him. I want to trust him. But I don’t know how yet.

I don’t want to go back to E just to have affection and companionship again. I could have Kayak for that – things are going well and could be very promising. I could take that chance and not worry every day about being betrayed by E again. Kayak is an unknown. He could lie to me, hurt me or break my heart just as easily as E could. And chances are it would hurt a little less than the pain and indignity of being hurt by E a second time.

So I’m freaking terrified.

My bedroom is painted a medium-deep blue color, and has room-darkening fabric shades and navy curtains. It gets no sun until the late afternoon when the light hits the west window. On Tuesday morning, E and I lay there together, holding one another and sharing pillows and covers in what we always called our cocoon. Wrapped up with him in the isolated, darkened room, I felt a small peace. Outside the door there were choices and changes, inside the room I was protected by the arms of a man who loved me and wanted me to love him again. I don’t know if it was fear of the choices and changes outside or my love for that man inside that made me want to stay in there forever.