Thursday, August 19, 2004

My Mr. Big

From: A Secret Admirer
Dateline: Pelham Bay

My Dearest Katie,

I offer you a mea culpa in regard to my insensitivity. Won't you come in here and read with your two favorite males? I promise to be more gentle and relaxed. This was great advice that Kiernan gave me, when I asked if I was just a mean-old-dad.

Love,
Tim
P.S. XOXXXXXOOXXXXXXXXXXOOO


Kiernan brought me the carefully, tightly wrapped little note. I was installed in the living room, absorbing TBS reruns of Sex and the City (Thank you, TBS! You have smiled on the lowly, unwashed, non-premium cable masses!). I was grumpy, emotional - I'll just come out and say it, extremely bitchy (Katie, bitchy? Never!)

My two favorite males had retreated to the bedroom to play highly addictive racing games. I was avoiding Tim, Tim was avoiding me. A blow out had run it's course an hour or two before, but (never one to pass up a grudge match) I had decided to let the bad feelings flow. Forget this, I thought. We're just not compatible. Astrology books all say so. Because, you know, astrology books are a good guide to living your life, right? Ahem.

The thing is, Tim and I are of two exceptionally different constitutions. I'm deliberative at best, depressed and melancholic at worst. I like to think things through and don't feel quite comfortable if I haven't had the chance to do so. Tim, on the other hand, is impulsive, energetic (mostly), largely unemotional and certainly not excessively introspective. It often works well - he gets me going when things need to happen, and I slow him down and make him think things through a little before he acts. We've been working on it for awhile, but we're both terribly, horribly, unwholesomely stubborn, and when those two constitutions collide? Look out.

That cursed Irish stubborness has made lots of little tiffs become full-scale "we'd be divorced if we'd ever bothered to get married" battle royales. This tiff was not one of those. This tiff was clearly of the "Katie's being petty now. I could call her on it, or appease her sweetly and have everlasting peace" variety. In this case, as in so many, Tim took one for the team.

We met ten years ago this summer. I was a whacked out little college freshman, 19 and in my first non-dorm apartment. He was a meandering super senior (you know, should have graduated last year, but got kind of... distracted?) killing another summer in a tiny college town. Two years later, Kiernan was on his way. Years passed. I played single mom. I got involved with other people (stringin' them along for awhile, then moving on to the next one - hence, serial blogonomy. If I were a guy, I might be a Nick Hornby style serial monogamist.) All the while, I still thought of him fondly. I wasn't angry. I didn't want to catch him, exactly. I just kind of wished he were around, because we'd had a lot of fun together. Not to mention a fabulous kid.

Ten years later, and here we are. Working it out. All ass backwards. It's been a few years, and sometimes he makes me want to kill him, but I think my serial monogamist days are over.

Tim,

I know you're probably not reading this, but it's my shout out to you nonetheless - you're my favorite (Jon Stewart and Mike Piazza notwithstanding) boyfriend EVER. Thanks for the secret admirer note. Those always make me giggle like a school girl.

Katie

4 Comments:

At 9:08 PM, Blogger Robert said...

Maybe doing things backwards is the best way. Doing them the "right" way hasn't exactly been the easy course for us. Today must have been a good day for blowouts. Is it a full moon or something?

Oh, and Big was always my hero in that show, except when he was a whiny drunk!

 
At 10:49 PM, Blogger Katie said...

Ha!
I DO admire Big's refusal to participate in Carrie's girly bullshit. Which is often how I feel about Tim - he cuts it off at the pass, god bless 'im. It's easy to think you don't play games, until somebody cares enough to call you on your game playing. :)

 
At 2:02 AM, Blogger Jen(nifer) said...

Fuck love.

(Ah who the hell am I kidding...I had tears when reading this...(built up secret tears, not real flowing ones.)

And a damn telling grin on my face.
My Katie, all grown up. Whew.

I need a drink.

Oh and I only say FUCK love, because I am not sur ehow to handle having a *Tim* who cares this much about me, either.

Alas. : ) Has it been 10 years???
(Gulp!)

 
At 9:46 PM, Blogger Esther Kustanowitz said...

Just let's get this straight. Jon Stewart's mine. So, hands off, babe.

 

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