Streaming

Night. New York. Strangers streaming by.

I'm walking upstream against a tide. Everyone's headed for Times Square. It's New Year's. It's early but my evening is over. She wasn't the one for me. I didn't want to get frozen and squashed with her for hours, even for a New Year's kiss. There is no one I want to be squashed against right now. I should get home before the craziness begins.

All these people -- millions! -- and I can't find the one. I'm a decent catch, 100% perfect 70% of the time. But how do you find a soulmate among millions? I pick out candidates streaming by. Some are pretty and have nice boobs and are sixteen. Some are older and already attached. Some must be LBGTQXYZ (it's New York), bless them.

I need an app. Something really good that filters out the attached, the thrill seekers, the ghosters, the kiddies, the unserious, the threesomes, and gets the candidates down to a manageable few hundred thousand. Actually it should go further. I should be able to check boxes for someone blond with nice boobs who shares all of my interests and can keep me laughing all night and is just the right height (in heels) and is named Lucy and DOESN'T CHEAT. But then like a Web search it would return her name but say it excludes DOESN'T CHEAT. Because I know there's only one. Was only one.

A couple bangs into me, laughing. They apologize but barely. I'm the one going the wrong direction. If only they knew! I can feel myself getting worked up and I have to keep my brain from kidnapping me again as it often does now. Maybe I should think it through again. I have to desensitize myself.

My phone beeps. I don't need to look. It's another one of those texts. I've been getting them for a year. She wants another chance. But nothing has changed. If she wanted to be together she shouldn't have talked so long with THAT GUY at THAT CHRISTMAS PARTY and gotten drunk and been charmed and laughed and laughed and suddenly found herself in an EMPTY OFFICE getting KISSED while her head was spinning and then being sat on a desk and FONDLED and ripping clothes off and getting FUCKED without even knowing his fucking name. And then NOT TELLING ME but happening to run into him on the street weeks later and reconnecting and finding his name was ROBERT (not Bob) and agreeing to drinks "FOR CLOSURE" and then ACTUALLY MEETING HIM for drinks "for closure" and getting hilariously drunk again and waking up in a HOTEL ROOM and finding out 6 weeks later she was PREGNANT but ending it and STILL not telling me because she NEVER INTENDED ANY OF IT and we were so PERFECT TOGETHER and she couldn't bear to risk screwing us up. And then a month later deciding she really had to tell me because she LOVED ME and she couldn't be dishonest with me. Not any longer, at least.

So if I answered these texts or her calls only two things could happen. We'd have closure which I didn't need or we'd go ahead and get MARRIED and then when the passion had waned a bit as I hear always happens she would think of her nights with ROBERT (not Bob) and try to find him just 'FOR CLOSURE' again and she'd have an AFFAIR or want an OPEN MARRIAGE and I'd say oh sure because I couldn't deny her anything and I'd be miserable again but stuck for good this time and ROBERT (not Bob) would be a third wheel on our bicycle built for two, following everywhere in spirit if not fact.

So there was no way I could answer her and in fact it was a lot better for my sanity (if any) if I didn't look at her texts at all, and in further fact it would be smart to CHANGE MY NUMBER but then all my other friends would have to be notified and might ask questions and the whole thing would be just too INCONVENIENT, plus she'd find it again from someone and anyway the fact that she kept texting me gave me a feeling that she was getting what she deserved even if it annoyed the hell out of me and at the same time it kept intact a tenuous (very) link to her, my one and only true love when she was the person I thought she was.

Sometimes everything works out (mostly in Disney) but this is the real world and there are NO FAIRY GODMOTHERS and things can and do go wrong, for some people wronger than for others. It's just luck and you have to accept it. We were so close but she wrecked it and that's that.

I decide to check the text anyway. It's probably one of those "I know you won't answer this but..." things saying she's sorry again (too late) and we are made for each other and she didn't mean to do it (right!). Tempting as always, but always leading to the same options of a MARRIAGE WITHOUT TRUST or never speaking again. I'm not emotional about it anymore (really) (mostly) and I can deal with it and move on but I need that app.

The text is just a link. The phone is nearly knocked out of my hand by the streaming crowd because my hand is cold and the wind is freezing and I think I had better look later, but as I pocket it my brain reminds me it's JUST A LINK and I'm interested because she usually sends me these damned poignant messages but this is not something that's going to get mushy and pleading and hard to ignore.

I stop in a doorway and open the link. A guy named Robert something who is a part-time comedian has been arrested on charges of roofie-raping dozens of women. He worked at Lucy's company.

I keep walking. The crowds are swirling and my brain is too, processing the possibility that Lucy was RAPED and I have BLAMED HER and DUMPED HER and probably LOST HER and I could be the BIGGEST JERK on the face of the earth who was going to get what he basically asked for, a lifelong sentence of regret and pain and LONELINESS that I richly deserved for not trusting and believing the best person on the planet and the ONLY ONE FOR ME.

So now what. If I went crawling back she wouldn't hold it against me (that's her) but I would, and I'd always be the guy that SPIKED our perfect relationship by being such a JERK when she was FAR BETTER than anything or anyone I ever deserved. Tears are streaming down my face and while it's just the cold wind (I'm sure) it's still hard to walk and see and think all at once.

I finally get home and walk up the four flights thinking this was more fun with her glued to my arm and planning a dinner that wasn't frozen, and I open the door and there she is with tears in her eyes too, I guess she kept my key.

And before I can react she THROWS HER ARMS AROUND MY NECK and just hugs and hugs and tells me how she missed me and she is so so sorry but she hopes I see the whole picture now. I feel the familiar pressure of her boobs on my chest and the new feel of her hot tears and my cold ones streaming down my cheek and I feel like such a dummy for letting my stupid brain kidnap me again. She was perfect and I was only 70% but she had still worked a year to save my life, just for love. The clock struck midnight as we kissed.