Clever Girl

Chapter 23: This game of emotional ping-pong

I get the distinct impression that Jay's not used to rejection - not just from girls, but possibly from every person and angle in life. I wish he wouldn't take it as an actual rejection, but more of a reasonable cause to believe I'm not emotionally available. Is it my imagination, or has he now positioned himself at the furthest point on the bench from where I'm sitting? 

After a few seconds of deliberating silence, he responds, "You need to stop trying to convince me that you have some deep, dark secret - that if I ever found out it would turn me off. Whatever you've got going on, it's not going to make me want you any less."

"It's not a secret. It's not like that. I know I'm sounding like a broken record here but . . . it's complicated."

"You? Complicated? Not possible," he says with diverted sarcasm.

"Shut up. I'm not complicated. My situation is."

"You are, just a little bit."

"And you're just a little bit annoying." Why is he sitting so far away from me? Why do I care? 

There's a quote that people always credit to Albert Einstein, that insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. The odd thing is, Einstein never said this. Maybe Jay is insane for trying repeatedly for an impossible outcome. Maybe the world itself is insane for its misguided assumption. Maybe it's me who's at fault, for humouring him, for agreeing to this moment, for wanting to kiss him, for letting him get close and then pushing him away.

It's insane to continue blaming him, when it's evident that I want him too. "What if . . . what if we're friends? We can hang out sometimes?" 

"I can't just be your friend."

"Goddamnit Jay . . .  I'm trying to come up with a solution here. We can either be friends, or this is really goodbye. Not next week. Not with another 'casual get-together'. Not with repetitive conversations where you can't get things through your giant head. Right now. This'll be it." There has never been a time in my life where I've been this indecisive about something. I stood by all of my past decisions, firmly, explaining each step to myself with unwavering confidence. Here and now, the choice I made a day, a minute, even a second ago is ever-evolving. For reasons still beyond my understanding, and no matter how infuriating I find him, I can't walk away, or at least not in the same grand capacity I wanted to before. Somehow I have to make the two halves of my conscience meet, if only to keep us from playing this game of emotional ping-pong.

"So we'll be friends, knowing we're both into each other, but we can't be together?"

"I know it sounds weird, but that's where I'm at now. Can you please agree with me for once?" Friendship might be an acceptable compromise. Maybe in time the feelings will change, and he'll move on. Maybe tomorrow I'll change my mind again. "It's either this or nothing at all."

"Fine, but only on one condition. You stay here longer tonight."

"I'll stay longer, but no more talk of this, and you don't ever kiss me again." I had to throw that out there, because I know if he tries again I will not be strong enough to move back.

"What if you want to kiss me? Do I push you off?"

"No, because it'll never happen," I respond through a forced, awkward laugh. "Moving on . . . "

I close my eyes for an instant and go back to cursing at myself soundlessly. If he keeps up his end of this new deal, then this particular debate will finally be over. Except, given our history, based on its chronic twists and the lack of logic or solid conclusion presented by either side, I can assume that it's not over at all.