It was too soon, is all. Before he moved out, we went out to dinner and talked about a settlement. It was cozy and friendly and almost comfortable. And there was wine. So we went back home to the same place. I sat n the couch and he sat in a chair, and through my wine haze I talked about how we could still go kayaking together. Or learn how to windsurf.
A few weeks later he moved out.
A few weeks after that, he wanted to talk about the settlement again, to finalize the details. He wants to meet over dinner. My tiny little sane inner voice said "No," but the he suggested a good vegan restaurant I'd never been to. Bribed me with food. As it got closer, I got nervous. My aunt said, gently, that maybe it was too date-like a setting. Little sane inner voice agreed. But, vegan food. So I went.
And I had The Worst Dinner of My Life. As soon as I saw him, I wanted to run out. Everything about the place became oppressive, from the lights with no visible source, to the black-clad serving staff with their fucking friendly smiles and perfect vegan skin. I went into defense mode, saying right away that I had to teach early, so couldn't stay long. (Subtext: no wine and no friendliness.) We looked at the menu. We talked business. We ordered food. We finished our business talk.
Then we were left looking at each other before our food even came. He asked me, plaintively, I thought, if I would even have a glass of wine. No. I just wanted to run away. His appetizer came. He offered me some. I said no. (Truly, I felt like I would vomit if I swallowed anything other than water.) He offered again. I said no. He begged me to just take a little. I let him put some on my plate, and I pulled it apart with my fork.
Our food came. I choked down my salad, grateful that I had the foresight to not order anything else. We finished eating. The server, poor woman, entered the veil of awkwardness and whisked our plates away. She packaged up his leftovers in the speed of light. I think we were giving her wrinkles with the tension.
He offered his leftovers, desperately. I said no. He offered to settle up so I could leave and catch the train, and I was up and out the door practically before he finished his sentence. Just another woman sob-walking through the West Loop. Nothing to see.
And I spent the next few weeks trying to make it up to little sane inner voice, who somehow knows. Always.
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