For Robert & Natalie

It's been almost 2 months since my last post. I've been hoarding them because the recent ones are pretty personal, not the light stuff dishing concert details or boxing gossip. I was reminded of my lack of posts by a couple who stumbled upon my blog. So Robert & Natalie, this is for you. Thank you for reminding me that while my rants can be entertaining they're also cathartic for me. So here's the skinny...

About a year ago my brother Dave was diagnosed with bladder cancer. We all knew his time was limited so this past Thanksgiving we went on a family cruise to the Caribbean. Turns out that was the best thing we could have done because less than 2 months later he died. It was heartbreaking particularly for me because I was here in Vegas & my family lives in Minnesota. I got a call at work from my other brother saying Dave wasn't doing too well and that he may only have a week or so left. I booked the next flight home, 7.00am. While I was grabbing dinner @ Seablue the night before I was headed back to the Twin Cities I get a call from my sister-in-law. Dave had died. My entire family was with him: mom, dad, his partner Aub, Rog, Kath and the pup Ralphie. Everyone but me. I missed him by 13 hours. Time. Goddamn you.

The next 2 weeks were pretty hard. David's funeral wasn't for 2 weeks because of scheduling and other stuff so I waited to fly home. At the time Counselor and I were hanging out pretty regularly. We spent every weekend together from before Christmas to past New Years. Same old crap. I interpreted it as dating, he thought of it as just 2 pals hanging out who spent the nights together. But when my brother died only 2 people knew. Trubes because she was with me @ Seablue when I got the call and Bill my friend the bartender who knows me better than most. I have no problem telling the world about my love life, work life, pet peeves, social engagements, what-have-you but when it comes to things really close to me, I shut down and clam up. But I knew I didn't want to be alone so I called Counselor. He spent the next 36 hours straight with me. He fed me, listened to me cry, distracted me, got me drunk, held me, told me everything was going to be ok. He took the day off work to be with me. I couldn't have asked for more. He was the standup guy I hoped he would be. He was there when I needed him. Then he fell off the face of the earth. Just like that. No more calls, emails, texts. Nada. I'm so thankful he was there for me those 2 days but in hindsight what I really needed was him there 2 weeks after, when my emotional shit hit the fan. I'm disappointed that he didn't care enough to send the obligatory follow-up text. He called once before my flight home for the funeral but at that point I was so furious with him and broken up about my brother that his small talk didn't matter. Too little too late. After the call I did something entirely childish and sent him a text saying, "It's not a good idea for us to hang out anymore." Yeah. Like I said. Childish. He called the next day but my CrackBerry happened to be going thru the TSA conveyor belt @ the airport so I missed it. He didn't leave a message and I didn't call him back. What more was there to say. 

Dave's funeral was hard but kind of comical. My brother had a quirky sense of humor. He quit smoking like 20 years ago but wanted to be buried with a pack of Marlboro reds. Oh, and he played Metallica. Classic Dave. 

Two weeks or so had passed since I'd spoken to Counselor. I'm sitting @ Seablue and my friend Christine who is a server there (& friends w/him too) tells me he misses me, he's sad, he's really depressed, he's lonely, blah blah blah. I feel bad but hey, pal, I feel the same way so suck it up. You're the one who doesn't want me so why the hell are you sad? Anyhow I'm driving home and Christine texts me saying Counselor wants me to come to the bar. He really wants to see me. So what do I do? Yeah, you guess it. I head to the bar. Counselor had been there for hours so he was feeling no pain. He was his normal charming, funny, sweet, cute self. Said all the right things. Eventually we were the only 2 left and, yep, once again, I end up spending the night with him. He's the single best person I've ever slept with. Not had sex with, but slept with. You know how sometimes your bodies just fit together perfectly? Yeah, that's us. Ok, TMI. Anyhow, we get up the next morning and he's completely detached, distracted. He's being a total jerk as if he's mad at me for being there. In less than 24 hours I went from missing him to feeling bad for him to being in love with him to hating him. Christ this is fucked up.

We go to Starbucks before I head home and I grab the NY Times. I randomly open it and in the Sunday Style section is an article called "It's Not Me, It's You: Dropping a friend can be like a divorce, complete with awkward exchanges, made-up excuses and lingering ill will." (By Alex Williams 01.29.12) Forehead, meet brick. As we walk out he asks if I'm going into this restaurant where he always goes because he likes the bartender - who incidentally he bought a Starbucks for too. What a nice guy (she says seething with disdain). I tell him he must be out of his mind if he thinks I'm going in there to watch him hit on her. 

"At some point (Counselor) one of us has to start respecting the other," I say definitively. 

"And it's probably going to be you because you're a better person," he concedes. I kept walking to my car alone thinking, "No, I'm not a better person, I just love you more than you do," and finished the article. 

I haven't spoken to him since. I saw him at church last Sunday. He sat on the other side of the sanctuary. I watched him drive away. I miss him every day, 100 times a day but in the words of Bonnie Rait, "I can't make you love me, if you don't." Puke.