The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. And sometimes I’m sure He doesn’t even know which way it’ll wind up.
Last summer, I received an Instagram dm from a beautiful woman in Portugal who read one of my pieces for Elephant Journal and wanted to thank me for putting into words what she never bothered trying to articulate. (We’ll give her a Portuguese name…like Madalena.)For the most part, she was far too preoccupied with more important matters. She was working on her PhD while teaching and carrying on a quiet and respectable polyamorous life.
Still in all, she loved the article and, before long, we were getting emotionally involved.
Do you like how I made that sound like it was the most inevitable course of events that could’ve happened? I left out the part where I plied her with poetry and recorded songs professing my feelings for her.
Do you like how I said “my feelings?” They were only partially my feelings. They were my feelings dressed in a costume of her sensibilities designed specifically for her to think “this is the perfect man for me.”
By the sixth poem and the third song, we ramped things up to super spicy and sexy. And, wouldn’t you know it, she was coming to Kent State to work on her doctorate for the fall semester. Not exactly around the corner from the Hudson Valley, but close enough to make something physical a very real possibility.
A week after I returned home from my trip to Athens, I was driving my car to Ohio to live out the fantasy I had been nursing for months on end. Those two days were delicious. As I got ready to leave, we spoke about our future together and Madalena cried as I walked to my car. I had seven hours of boring and stressful interstate driving to think about how incredible it was to be involved with such a beautiful and intelligent woman.
Four days later, over Facetime, she told me that she thought we shouldn’t pursue anything further with each other. Her reason? She had a tendency to always fall in love with people on the other side of the world. This was not very convenient when she wanted a ride to the supermarket. And we both had histories of addiction. That’s not a good idea. I’m fairly certain she continued giving me reasons, but it didn’t matter.
I could feel the raw anger pulse through me when I hung up the phone. As the days and weeks piled on top of each other like children in a pile of crunchy leaves, the anger spread shockwaves through me until I felt sadness and hurt and, eventually depression. I sought out, and finally found, a therapist that took my insurance. I started taking medication to counteract the lethargy I felt from the weight of those ugly emotions.
I also did a search for plane tickets to Paris for the following year. I figured the length of time I’d have to wait for the flight would make the trip less costly. This proved to be true. If I tried to purchase those tickets now, they’d be three times as much.
It definitely helped my morale to have a trip to the beautiful streets of Paris as something to look forward to, but it was not a cure-all. I fell into some old coping mechanisms from the distant past and I’m still cleaning that mess up today.
Since Madalena, I’ve had a few short-lived close calls (I can’t even call them relationships). For the most part, however, it seemed like I’d create a profile in Facebook Dating and delete it. One week on, one week off. Nothing looked promising until a month ago when I started talking to a woman from the town next to mine.
Our thoughts were similar when it came to the world, we both were steeped in the arts, and right around the same age. I kept my last name a secret because I have experienced so much negativity from the articles where I got the most honest and the most vulnerable, that there was no reason to think this would be any different.
I didn’t see it as dishonest. Hell, even my therapist said it’d be a good idea to let her get to know me as a person before inviting her to read my darkest secrets over her browser platform. At our first dinner date, I made the mistake of mentioning one of my Elephant articles. I immediately got a chill down my back.
“You might’ve just blown it,” I thought.
We talked at that table for hours. As we walked to our cars, I said I had a great time and would love to do it again. She agreed. Later, when she texted to let me know she got home safe, I mentioned that it’d be cool to see her before I left for my vacation. She responded that she was free Saturday. That would be tonight.
Now you’re probably wondering why I am weighing you down with all of this boring minutiae.
It’s because I got my last text from her on Monday. Not another peep. I try not to come off as paranoid, but I’m fairly certain she fell down the Billy Manas web rabbit hole and decided that she didn’t need anyone that whacky in her very serious life.
Of course, there’s always the chance that she got in a serious car wreck and is still in a coma or she might be the victim of foul play–but I’m going to go with the odds and say it’s likely what I suspect.
I’m not going to be a baby about it. My creative output has earned me many opportunities I would never have had otherwise and realism dictates that there is a balance with these things. You win some and you lose some. Truthfully, the wins are usually pretty miraculous.
Once again, I deleted Facebook Dating and I’ve brushed the whole thing off. I’m headed to Paris to see what the rest of the world has to offer. Just another guy living my most meh life.
Painting by Rob Hans
The empath in me says, "I'm so sorry"
The realist in me says, "catastrophe diverted"
The adventurer in me says, "travel on, my friend, travel on"
Like you said, "you win some and you lose some" time marches on regardless, live and learn and know that the sun will always rise and set, no matter. Keep on your path and I'll keep on mine and maybe we'll make this world a better place along the way :) looking forward to next week's journey, bon voyage!
Love you Billy ❤️