Confessions

September 28, 2011

Tonight Pastor and I headed to a sports bar to watch the wildcard race. I'm hoping that the Braves loose and the Cardinals win. My grandad was a huge Cardinals fan and it's making me a little misty-eyed. Pastor doesn't have a specific interest in these games, since the Phillies clinched their playoff rights weeks ago. However, as I tell him and he reminds me, "He's a good sport."

I'm trying to open up to Pastor. This is feeling less and less like a friendship and I want to make sure that he understands my fears about entering a relationship, with anyone, really, not just him.

So I told him that I've always worried a relationship would trap me. And I told him that I'm ready to put down roots. I want him to understand what I'm looking for. I'm tired of dating. I'm super tired of mock-dating. I'm ready to start building a life with someone.

When Pastor complains about his job or his lack of friends or how awful his late wife's family has been to him, I detect this note of bitterness. When he starts complaining today, I ask him if he would be feels like he jumped into the job too fast. Maybe he should have waited a bit longer for the right job or the right community. This is what he says,

"I don't think so. I don't think there's any job out there that could make me happy. My life was going this one direction and I was excited about it. Then there was this left turn, which I had no control over. And... I'm bitter. I don't want anything else. I want that life. But since I can't have that, I might as well be here. But I don't want any of it."

I think he sees how stunned I am that those words just came out of his mouth. He apologizes and says it's not fair to say that to me.

I agree. It's not fair. And it's clear he's in no place to offer me any of the things I want. And it's not fair to take control of a game we were watching in memory of my grandfather and impose all these memories of his late wife, who hated baseball.

I couldn't stay in the bar any longer. I paid for my beers, left him to pay for his wine and left as quickly as possible. He kept texting me the scores after I left the bar. The Cardinals play the Phillies next and my family will be cheering for the Cards, while the entire city will be yelling for the Phillies. When he asked me who I was cheering for, I told him I'm going to wear red. He said, liar, you're a Phillies Phan now. I responded, everyone sees what the want to see.

I don't think I should talk to him for a while.