After the much needed intermission with my Italian from the gay bar (the sweet Italian sausage), I dove headfirst back into the pool of obsession with my yogi guy. I couldn’t get away from it. Everything that was sacred to me was wrapped into his presence. For self preservation, I started to ignore him completely, it was the only thing left to do. He had me at check mate and I had no more moves. So I refused to even make eye contact with him. Around this time, I became aware, in my limited ability I had to be aware of such things, that another guy in the studio began to flirt with me. I would chat with him before or after class, just to be friendly, and also because it gave me another reason to not have to interact with…him.
I was operating with a vague sense of the idea this new yogi guy might actually like me, as nothing was registering anymore except for my obsession. Looking back, I am sure he was trying his hardest to flirt, only to hit a brick wall every time, ending with me happily saying ‘have a nice day’, and running off before he could make any move.
Until the day it all went down. I was happily chatting with my new yogi friend after class, while my yogi lover was finishing up his class and assisting some other students. We were chatting about this and that, and then the conversation turned. It started to become intense, the way things happen right before you realize you have feelings for someone. In a split second, I came out of my haze and realized we were pretty much on a date right then, and I found myself in locked eyes with him, and saw he was looking at me with a longing that was reminiscent of the moment right before you go in for a kiss. I freaked out, but it was too late. I was already locked into this moment of my own doing, and there was no way to politely exit. To make matters worse, my true yogi lover started to come out the area we were sitting, as he had been listening to our conversation the entire time.
As he approached was exactly the moment my yogi friend made his move, unaware of the shark lurking, or more appropriately, the huge elephant in the room standing right next to him. He asked me on a date, and asked for my number the second the elephant was close by. It couldn’t have been timed better if it was a movie. If I wasn’t still madly in love with him, I would have laughed. But no matter how badly I hated him, I loved him even more and I never wanted to hurt him like he hurt me.
But it happened, and my yogi friend took my number, and promptly began to make plans. Tonight? Tomorrow? He worked Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, so those days wouldn’t work. I literally froze and lost control of my own vocal chords. I looked at him, I’m sure with a strange expression on my face, as I saw my yogi love in the peripheral of the picture of a poor guy waiting for an answer from someone he had feelings for. And then I cracked out something like “just text me about it”, fumbled for my sandals, and bolted out the door.
That was the last time I saw my love. My yogi friend also never texted me about a date that week, and I did not see him until the next week at yoga.
The next day at yoga, I thought my love was sick. It entertained me a little, playing out a story in my head about how distraught he was by what happened that it had made him sick. But the next day he was missing too, and my entertainment quickly faded. On the third day, I decided he must be on vacation and came up with another fantasy about him being so upset that he had to take some time off to think about it all. I imagined him telling the owner of the studio about it. He would say it was about a girl, but no one would suspect it was me.
But a week went by, and then another week, and then his name mysteriously started disappearing from the schedule week after week, and then he was gone from the website, and all traces of him were erased. No one mentioned his departure, and no one seemed to care. It was as if he had never existed. I fell into a deep depression.
In the meantime, I saw my yogi friend at the studio off and on. I would always greet him warmly, and he would always greet me warmly back. There was no awkwardness, as if that day had never happened.
A few weeks later we happened to walk out of the studio at the same time and struck up another one of our old conversations like we used to have. He walked in the opposite direction of his car, and followed me to my car because we were so engrossed in the conversation. When he realized it, he told me so….then an awkward pause, and then another locked eyes moment. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me, but he didn’t. He just smiled, said he had to leave, and walked to his car. No mention of trying to plan a date.
I was utterly confused. Did I scare off my friend that day with my awkwardness, or did my yogi lover say something to him? No one else in the studio knew we ever hooked up, and it was apparent in the way my friend asked me out right in front of him. But why would my lover even say something to him about it if he didn’t love me? That thought quickly became an obsession I couldn’t shake. And why did he disappear right after that day? Did he love me that much he couldn’t stand to see me date someone else? Of course those thoughts were exactly what my broken heart wanted to hear. The only way it wanted to be mended was for him to be in love with me.
I was terrified to find out either way, and so I never asked anyone what happened to my lover. I also couldn’t face the idea that other people might find out how in love with him I was. Instead I would go home and get lost in my fantasies of what happened, they were so much better than what reality could bring me.
And so I sit here, in this mess with my hands tied caused by my own doing. My feet are untied, but I refuse to walk away for fear of the truth. He still has my shattered heart and I refuse to reclaim it. Will I ever know the truth of what happened to him? Will I ever reclaim my lost heart? I do not know the answer to these questions, but if I don’t make a move soon there is a chance I will turn to stone sitting here, I feel the coldness setting slowly setting in.
The Single Girl Survival Guide 