The Return of Mr. Twittles

May 10, 2008

Once on a sunny afternoon in a Big City, I found myself with a friend who listened to me with all of his heart. I’ve not had a lot of moments like that — and I sometimes think not many of us have — and it was an afternoon I never forgot.

I told him all my hopes and dreams, I told him what I feared most (mediocrity), and what I didn’t want to become. I told what I wanted to become, and he believed in me.

I’m not exactly sure why him believing in me mattered so much, but it did. Last night, I finally had the chance to thank him, after 13 years.

Mr. Twittles (not his real name, of course) was a colleague of sorts in the big fat famous company where I’d managed to land a job in my starving, wannabe days. I say of sorts because he represented everything I wanted to be and wasn’t. And he was my friend. And I can’t tell you how good that made me feel. How good it still makes me feel.

I found Mr. Twittles on a social networking site which shall remain unnamed a few weeks ago. I thought he’d moved far away, but as it turns out, he’s been within driving distance all this time. I highly suspect that I could only allow myself to ‘find’ him when I finally felt worthy enough to do so.

Seeing him was as wonderful as it was strange. He is hilariously funny, does one of the best Jerky Boys imitations I’ve ever heard and can go on for hours as if he was one of them. Fortunately, he refrained or I think would have had an incontinent moment. We spent 4 hours over dinner talking non-stop and today I feel like I could have another dinner.

He’s no threat to my marriage, but I’m puzzled as to whether we can really be friends, as much I would like to be. Back in the sunny park days, we had more than one outing together. I’m usually not clueless as to whether a man is interested, but I could never figure his intentions out. He never made a single move, other than an occasional, ambiguous remark. And there was a point when I would have accepted it, had he dared. But he never did. And I didn’t dare either. I knew there was a woman of some sorts back then, but I never had the impression they were really together. Last night he confirmed that they had been which was all the more puzzling. What were those outings all about? Was he simply being a friend? Was he looking for a little on the side? Did he know that what he had wasn’t it? They broke up eventually, and he was devastated. Didn’t date for seven years after that. That doesn’t sound like someone who wasn’t sure about what they had, does it?

Last night again there was another ambiguous remark, something about timing and finding love. I let that serve fly right past me, as I respect him too much to suggest that he was once interested in me.

He’s a question mark in my life, Mr. Twittles. But I’m glad he’s back. I think he’s back, I should say. He said ‘we’ll keep in touch’ as we left, and I hope he meant it but I’m not sure if he did, or even what that means for him.

Is it possible for men and women to be friends? I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t attractive or that I couldn’t imagine us together. I don’t want that, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility, at least for me. But I guess that’s why I don’t dare ever tell him that. I think I’m afraid that he would say, ‘ah, gee no, I… uh… yeah, no’. Part of me would be relieved to hear that so we could just get on with it and be pals. But a part of me would be disappointed.

Are we two ships that passed in the night? I’m not sure.

* * *

I missed my Week 3 deadline for my screenwriting class (dangit!), but finally had a chance today to get caught up. My story is flowing out and I have 9 — count ’em — 9 whole pages of my screenplay written. And at least right now, I feel like the remaining 80 to a 100 will not be as painful to write as I once feared they would be. I completely enjoyed writing those 4 new pages today, and I could have gone on much longer. Tomorrow I will, as we’re now on Week 4.


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