Hurt So Good.

"I’ll be there in 15.”

I couldn’t believe it, after a year of on and off dating; Bond was going to see my apartment. I was operating on a wavelength that was strange and foreign. I had given up on the fight of pushing Bond out of my life and accepted the fact that he was the man that I need and want in my life. I found myself throwing everything that looked like a broke college student lifestyle in my closet, forgetting I still had on my Bon Jovi rock shirt.

There he was standing in front of my door, tie off and coat in hand. As he walked into my apartment, I found myself looking around for any evidence left behind. “It’s cute, very cute, and cozy.” I had finally opened my front door to let him, and he fit right in with my Ikea plates and hand me down couch. That night Bond stayed in. I felt like we were the only two people in the world, there was no wine and dine, no fancy rides, no one.

A few days ago, Arpine and I met Bond and the New Yorker for drinks at Bandera. As I walked in I found him sitting at the bar, drink in hand and in total control of the situation. Standing next to him was a tall, beautiful blonde female. I thought to myself, who am I trying to fool? The man has successful women throwing themselves at him, women who he knows he may have a future with. The bar was packed with Armani suits and Prada shoes; the women were posh, the men were polished. My crazy curly hair felt out of place. “I would like you to meet my sister,” he lend in closer, “sorry I didn’t tell you earlier she was going to meet us too, hope you don’t mind.” It’s strange meeting a family member for the first time. I tend to find myself quiet and shy, afraid of saying the wrong thing or leaving a bad impression.

Later on that night, I had received a text message from Stallion. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings. I hope all is well with you… thanks for being there for me…” I knew the only reason why he even reached out to me was because he saw me Super Bowl Sunday. The only thing I could say to him was “Sorry we didn’t work out. I know what I want and need in my life. Hope everything works out for you too.”

Thursday night, I met Bond for dinner before he flew off to D.C. I had forgotten the feeling of how much I hated the fact that he traveled a lot. For the first time in a very long time, Bond and I were able to just be. That night, Bond and I had our first sleep over. I woke up in the morning finding myself still wrapped in his arms. I held him tighter, not wanting to let go. As I watched him get dressed that morning, I felt a massive lump in my throat. I realized I was falling in love with him. This was what I had been running away from this past year, and now I was sucked in. Till this day I don’t know what I expected when I first agreed to have dinner with him. I didn’t even think about the ‘what ifs’. Now all those ‘what ifs’ were happening and I hadn’t even had the chance to prepare for them.

We had both given up, our weapons were down, and the games were over. No more Battle Ship, no more Twister, no more Clue. I knew what I wanted and needed in my life, and so did he. The thing about needs is that we tend to be afraid of what they will mean when we get them met. Will we be able to survive if we ever lose that need, will we still have that drive, and will he still be there if I give in? Here I was so fixated on the idea of what my family, peers, and society would think about our relationship that I had neglected what I needed. Sometimes what we want isn’t what we need and what we need isn’t what we want.

But the reality is, it’s not just him and me. It is my family, my brothers, and my grandmothers. That weekend I did something that surprised Bond. I told my mother about our relationship. I have always found that living a secret brings out the worst in me. I never had a reason to hide Bond from anyone; I mean how much better can one man be? Living in a traditional Armenian family comes with certain expectations, most of which I had broken. I was raised with the saying ‘the worst of an Armenian is better than any odar.’ The xenophobia that is instilled in the community has caused many to be outcasts, runaways, and actors. Why can’t we just be with who we want to be with? Why can’t we be who we want to be? Why the fear? I have somehow managed to break traditions while remaining very much part of this closed off world. But if I were to walk away now, I know that I would be leaving the very heart of me out to dry.

I found it amazing that though I push him out, neglect him, and leave him hanging, he has the patience and belief in me that I need from a man in my life. As I kissed him good-bye and watched him take off, I realized that the only reason why I ever ran away from him was because he was everything I ever wanted. So I tried to fool myself by thinking if I never had him, then I would never lose him. What do you do when you have your ‘ah ha’ moment, but you are so scared to say it out loud? The reality was that we were in two very different places in our lives. Bond had the type of life style that if he had to fly to out D.C., India, or Japan then he had to go, and most of the time the duration was unknown. I didn’t move until he was out of sight. I took a deep sigh, and decided to do the only thing I can do, go home. As I made my way into my apartment, I got a text message from Bond, “I’m really gonna miss you. You’re the woman for me.”

Posted by Armenian Chronicles at 2:38 PM 0 comments
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 2009