San Diego, CA

A bit more elaboration about what happened in Vegas.

I met someone--or, to be more accurate, rediscovered an old friend.

And fell in love.

But there's a problem. My oldest friend in the world is bitterly upset about this right now, and it's breaking my heart. I never thought it would be possible to be so happy and so sad at the same time. So let me 'splain. No, is too much. Let me sum up.

I've known him for fifteen years, since college, and we've been great friends ever since. We made arrangements for me to visit him in San Diego, and then when he found out he would be in Vegas for a convention, I scheduled the first part of my trip so that we could meet up in Vegas on those dates and drive back to San Diego together. It occurred to me somewhere mid-trip that this would be the first time he and I had been single at the same time, and part of my brain wondered what would happen and what that would be like, but I never seriously entertained the idea of us getting together. We'd been friends for too long.

Until he walked back into the hotel room on Saturday after T left, and the penny dropped. Mutually. There's a scene in "Sex in the City" where Miranda is bitching to Carrie about her ongoing drama with Steve, and she says that she always hoped that one day, all her bullshit would fall away and she would just know. I never thought it was possible to just know, and that my usual anxious bullshit would magically disappear, but it seems I've been (happily) proven wrong.

Those of you that know me, know that when my last serious relationship ended, it almost killed me. My heart was pulverized and what little was left was buried so deep I was sure it would never see the light of day again. I didn't want to feel anything, for fear of going through something like that again, and then one day I realized I hadn't felt anything for so long that I was pretty sure my heart was dead. And then--la!--there it was, hiding in a Vegas hotel room.

Now I realize this presents logistical difficulties, not least of which is that he and I live on opposite coasts and I have sworn never to move for love again. But I can deal with that. What I can't deal with is my dearest friend in the world feeling betrayed by this. I knew she had a crush on him, but I would never intentionally sabotage her wishes. If this had been merely a hot vacation fling, I would have left him firmly in the Land of What Could Have Been and we could have had a nice giggle about it later. But it was so much more than that, right from the beginning, and I wanted her to be happy for me. For us. Especially since she knew how hurt I was last time out, how I despaired of ever finding happiness with a man again, how I secretly feared that I was somehow broken.

Well. Maybe I am broken, still. I'm heartsore over my friend's anger and I don't know what to do about it. But somehow I'm still happier than I've been in a very long time.