2005-06-07 - 7:55 p.m.
Much to both our surprise, the girl who saved me was in New York for a book convention this weekend. We had breakfast together yesterday. After all the heartache about her not being able to go to my graduation, I actually got to see her.
She was staying at the hotel across from Penn Station. Back in high school, I used to drunkenly stumble into this hotel with my friends on cold winter nights. Security was pretty lax. We could take the elevator to the top floor and hang out in the function room there.
Now I was so nervous, I could barely walk. I hadn�t seen her in years and never as a crip. What if I freaked her out? What if she didn�t like me anymore? I got a ride into the city by 8 and staggered into the lobby, collapsing on some steps. I called her cell and tried to explain where I was.
She met me there. Sat on the steps with me and gave me a kiss. I know it sounds corny, but my heart caught in my throat when I saw her. I was so happy. I started tearing up. I�m such a wuss. I had wanted to take her somewhere exotic for a fancy breakfast like the queen she is, but I couldn�t move so well so we ate in the lobby coffee shop.
She told me about her weekend. She hung out with all these authors and publishers and went to all these parties. Everyone knew that where the money gets made in the end is her store. The head of Tor Books, home of fantasy/sci-fi of dubious quality (but big sellers in airports), took a shine to her and always sat next to her to regale her with stories.
She even got a job offer to manage an independent bookstore in Anchorage. (She figured, even though there�s like four men for every woman in Alaska, it�s even colder than Chicago.) I was pretty blown away by all this. I mean, what did I do this weekend?
I know that we each have our own life. I know that there may be good reasons that we aren�t together. She said she�s a much better friend than she would be girlfriend (although I�d rather judge that myself). And I don�t think that now I�d ever want to impose my pain-in-the-ass gimpy ass on her.
But at that moment, with us staring starry-eyed at each other, I thought what the hell have I been doing. I should have spent every moment for the last decade making her happy. I�d drop everything I have to be with her now. Sometimes I think it�s maybe for the best that I can�t get around so well. It would have been extremely unwise and detrimental to our relationships to go upstairs to her room as we might have if it had been easier.
At the end, we tearfully got me into a cab up to my sister�s where I couldn�t think for the rest of the day. I hope so much that she�s happy where she is. I know I�ll go on with my life as I always have. But I always think: what if?
� 2005 Geoff Gladstone
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