4:30
I’m sitting with Mom in the living room of the house I grew up in. She’s hunched over a pair of Dad’s pants, hemming them with the precision of an orthopedic surgeon; one of her many talents. I’m talking to her about this guy I’ve been seeing for a few months. As she threads her needle through thick denim, she gives me her brutal honesty. Don’t fuck with a girl from Queens.
Mom: “Ayala. Until he shows up at your doorstep, telling you he can’t live without you, it’s nothing. Don’t even think about it. When you do, think of something else, keep it moving. It’s very important.”
Me: “But Mom. It’s not that simple. He has a kid. And he lives far away.”
Mom: (looking up from her surgery, her piercing blue eyes laser beaming directly into my soul, “I DON’T CARE! If he loves you, he’ll show up. If not, goodbye. It is that simple and it’s very important. You have to let him show you who he is.” I knew she was right. My father would run to my mother from Brooklyn to the Bronx with no socks and shoes if she called out his name.
A few weeks later, the guy surprises me with a romantic evening in a sweet little cabin in the middle of the woods. My dream that night was for my concerns to evaporate as I would watch him transform into the mensch I hoped he could be. When he kissed me on the porch and told me the things I’d been wanting to hear, I felt he was on the way to my doorstep.
The cabin was cute, but missing a few marks–most importantly, heating, and second, a lock on the door. But hey–Jewish American Princess that I am–I can hang! I’ve been to camp! And I mean what are the odds of someone coming in to torture and murder us? According to the hundreds of documentaries and podcasts I’ve taken in, HIGH. But he was there, cuddled up next to my hope and I, so despite my visible breath and moderate paranoia, the anesthesia of his skin was enough to keep me high.
At 3:30 in the morning, huddled up talking, he said, “Hey, in an hour I’m going to leave for a bit–I have to do a few things.” (RECORD SCRATCH) Uhhhhhhhhhh…WHAT?!!! HORRIFIED, I said, “No fucking way!” To drive down a pitch black mountain at four in the morning on no sleep? That would be crazy! And HELLO?? There was no lock on the door! No cell service! No weaponry! Nothing else to warm me but his body! “I’m scared.” I said. “You’ll be fine. I’ll only be gone for a little bit. You’ll sleep.” At 4:30 in the morning, he put another blanket on me, kissed me on the forehead and left. WTF?
My thoughts spun into a tornado. Oh my GOD, is he going to kill me? Is he at Lowe’s right now, purchasing duct tape, zip ties, and a tarp? Stop Ayala. You could take him. Remember that time in college when you hulked out and threw Miriam across the room after she slapped you? Okay, yeah. Oh my God what if he doesn’t come back? Is he going to come back? Is he going to leave me here? He’s going to leave me in this cabin. How the fuck will I get out of here? Do Ubers come here? Of course they don’t! Ayala, what the fuck are you doing here with a guy who would leave you in the middle of the woods in the dark? Your father would lose his mind oh my GOD Yitgadal v’yitkadash sh’meih raba, b’alma di v’ra chiruteih V’yamlich malchuteih b’chayeichon uvymeichon HOW could you do this to your parents? Why didn’t you leave too? Why didn’t you leave with him, have him drop you off at your hotel with a big FUCK YOU? What is going on? WHAT in GOD'S NAME did he have to go do at this hour?! WHY DIDN’T YOU PRESS HIM ON THIS? WAS he going to Lowe’s? How could he leave me here? What is happening? How could I have forgotten my toothbrush? I should have washed my hair this morning! What if I freeze to death? What is WRONG with this person? Is he a full blown psycho? What is wrong with me that I fell for this guy who so OBVIOUSLY doesn’t give a fuck about me? Eventually I fell asleep due to pure exhaustion, but more, for a brief respite from the shame of not standing up for myself. I thought, well, if this is how I die, this is how I die. I chose to be here, after all. What a stupid way to die.
I woke up four hours later alone. And yet, when he walked through the door half an hour later, sans the coffee or the toothbrush I asked him to bring me, I kissed him with a smile, as if he never left. I didn’t ask him how he spent the past four hours.
One could say that leaving me in the axe murderer cabin at 4am to “do a few things” was…the opposite of showing up at my doorstep. I was so ashamed of what happened that I didn’t tell anyone. I didn’t want my friends to know how little this guy cared for me–which illuminated how little I was willing to accept and call it love.
A week later, I was talking with my dear friend Aspen, who is the most understanding person on earth. I knew she wouldn’t judge me, or demonize him (lol–the fact that this was a concern of mine–am I the psycho?) so I told her about it. I needed someone to witness my shame. “Wow, Ay. Thank you for sharing this with me. I have so been there. God. Hearing it from you helps me see myself with so much compassion. Listen. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. How could you have known he was going to leave you there? You went to this cabin with him hoping that you’d have a glorious time in the woods because you see the best in others. The possibility, the potential, the magic. Which is a gift. And guess what? He showed you exactly who he is, and that allowed you to see where you were at in that moment. You were willing to withstand a dangerous situation in the pursuit of love. And that’s human! We’re learning. The good thing is: you’ll never be in that situation ever again.”
With the clarity of time, I see the wisdom here. I see that I was so distracted waiting for him to become someone he’ll never be that I forgot who I was. I see, finally, that someone’s potential has nothing to do with who they are; that the potential I see is just a reflection of my own beautiful dreams. I know that I have nothing to be ashamed of. I also know that I will never love another asshole.
As Phil Stutz says, shame and embarrassment is the glue that holds the Universe together. When he comes to my mind now, I think of something else as I keep it moving. He was a lesson that allows me to stick to you. It’s very important.
