Gateway Girl

I am the gateway girl. I’m the one who shows you that you want someone, something more. But it’s not me. I’m the one who sets the stage and someone else gets to perform on it.

With Cute Boy, he was dating someone on the other coast. He flirted outrageously with me. We got very close. I thought something was going on. And it was. Just not with me. As soon as I thought we were going somewhere, he suddenly decided to have the East Coast girl move in with him. Now, I’m not saying it’s because of me but the timing sure was interesting. And they got married and now have two kids. And I hope he’s happy. I don’t know because I don’t hear from him anymore.

Then the Poet. Who was kind of sleeping with someone when we met. Nothing serious. She was definitely not someone I could see him with. And again, we got so close. So very, very close. But he told me he wasn’t in love with me. And then disappeared. Shortly thereafter, he found someone. They live together now. He seems very happy. I don’t know because I don’t hear from him anymore.

And now, the Filmmaker just posted a video (under the guise of his alter ego) saying one of his resolutions this year is to find love. The man who said he didn’t want to be a boyfriend. The man who could deal with my having cancer yet couldn’t deal with holding my hand in public because someone might think he’s my boyfriend. The man I slept with for almost a year, who I just wanted to give me a teeny bit more, who said he wanted to play the field and just be casual. This man wants to find love. Now, maybe he means sex. Maybe he means someone to be casual with. But he used the term “find love”.

And my heart broke.

Because I’m still here. And I wanted to give him all the love he wanted. But he chose not to take it.

And all it would take would be a phone call from him. An email. A text. And I’d be right there.

He wouldn’t have to find love because it’s right here.

But I haven’t really heard from him in almost three months. (Sounds familiar) Oh, he’s good about responding to me. But if I stop reaching out to him, he’ll fade into the distance and become like all of the others - someone with a piece of my heart who I knew once.

And it makes me angry. And it breaks my heart. Because I never seem to be the one that they want. I always seem to be the one before the one that they want.

And if that’s true, then the Filmmaker will find someone within the next month or so who is the one who he wants. And he’ll be happy. And I really want that.

But…

Fuck.

Why can’t it be me? The only issue we had was that I wanted more and he didn’t.

And maybe I’m reading more into this than is there. And maybe I’m overreacting. (What? Me?) And maybe he really just wants someone to be casual and to be not serious.

But he said “find love”.

And if my life were a romantic comedy, one of his friends or his mother or someone close to him would kick him in the shins and say, hey, stupid. You had that and you let it go. And she’s still here and she still loves you. And he’d show up at my door… well… you know the whole “show up at my door” scenario. And we’d become that romantic urban myth of the couple who broke up and then got back together again and lived happily ever after.

But my friend, Shelley, already had that. She and her now-husband and the father of her gorgeous daughter broke up for six months and then got back together and are now ridiculously happy. So she got that. Which means I don’t.

And I’m tired of being the gateway girl. And I’m tired of not getting the guy. And not being the one who is happy in the arms of the man who I love. And I’m tired of feeling like there’s something wrong with me.

And now, there’s even more wrong with me. I’m a cancer survivor with my battle wounds obvious all over my body. The Filmmaker was there as these wounds were obtained and he made that okay. But now, I don’t know that anyone is going to want to be with the wounded warrior I have become. I thought he would stay around because he dealt with my wounds so easily. But maybe that drove him away and he just couldn’t express it.

So I sit here in my apartment, reminders of him everywhere. And I’m pissed off and hurt and heartbroken and angry and pissed off and… rinse, repeat.

I want to call him or go over and bang on his door and scream at him, “You stupid son-of-a-bitch! You had me! You had love! And you let me go, you stupid…”

But…

He’ll find someone and be happy. And that someone won’t be me. And I’ll cry every time I see a picture of him with her because, goddammit, it should have been me. IT FUCKING SHOULD BE ME!!!!

Because it’s time. It’s time that it was me. Because we fit together. And we worked.

And it should be me.

But it never is. And it won’t be. So I’ll stop trying to even be friends. I’ll stop reaching out because my heart breaks every time he doesn’t reach back. And my heart is broken enough. I’ll truly let him go and just pretend he isn’t there and stop trying to be in his life. Because he obviously doesn’t want me there. Silence speaks louder than words sometimes.

Because I’m the gateway girl. And I’ll probably spend my life watching the men I love find the women they love. After me.

So I guess the solution is to not give my heart away and not give myself away.

To stop looking at every guy I meet and wonder if he’s going to be the one who I get to keep. Like the very lovely guy I met at the coffee shop the other night. Spent two hours talking. Really connected. And after he left, I immediately thought, maybe he’ll call. And maybe this will be something. And maybe…

And that was immediately followed by the absolute knowledge that he won’t even contact me, never mind be the one I get to keep.

I don’t need to have someone in my life. I’ve never been one to be that woman, that woman that absolutely needs a man to complete her life. But being with the Filmmaker showed me that I really love being with someone. Especially being with him.

But I don’t want to be the gateway girl anymore. So I guess I’ll just not let anyone else in. That way, I won’t open myself up to be the one standing on the sidelines, watching a piece of my heart walk away yet again and watch someone I love give his heart to someone else. Because there just isn’t much of my heart left anymore. I think I gave the last, precious piece to the Filmmaker. And I don’t want to let go of any of it anymore.

And maybe that’s sad. But at least I won’t have to be the gateway girl anymore. And maybe I can survive with my heart intact and keep some of it for myself.