By: Skip Serpico
Song: Someday We’ll Be Together
Artist: The Supremes
Album: Cream of the Crop
(Picture taken from intheclotheset.com)
How do you know when you’ve begun stalking?
I mean, you’re obviously stalking when it’s unwanted and the judicial system is involved, but there’s got to be a point before there’s a restraining order when you’ve crossed the line between “romantic gesture” and “call the cops.” That point when you haven’t actually done anything but your dedication is suspect.
I ask, not because I’m afraid of crossing that line, but because in this current day and age of technological wonder, I’m so afraid of coming close to the line that I’m paralyzed into inaction.
But this isn’t about inaction or even stalking; it’s about an ex.
I know, I know “it’s about an ex” just screams stalker, but it’s not.
There’s this woman, let’s call her Chet, because I’m quirky like that. Anyway, Chet and I dated in high school and since then she’s always sort of been “the one that got away.” I’m not going to get into it, suffice it to say I allowed pride to get the better of me and have regretted it ever since.
Anyway, we had an awesome “will they or won’t they” moment. It happened in the past. It’s not happening and it won’t happen again. I mean theoretically there could be another “will they or won’t they moment” in the future, but the one that I’m referencing is set firmly in the past.
One of the conditions of our initial hook up was that we always remain friends. Of course life got in the way and we lost touch. But thanks to the glorious internet we’d become reacquainted.
It turns out that she’d gotten an internship with Wayne Industries and would be in Gotham for a few months. Since I lived in Bludhaven it meant we’d be able to hang out on weekends. It was perfect because I’d get a chance to hang out with one of my oldest friends and she’d get to have someone in the area that she knew.
Of course she did have a boyfriend who was in Blue Valley, but I wasn’t concerned about that because I could suppress my emotions and would totally play the role of “friend.”
And everything was fine. Chet and I did hang out. We went out to eat and whatnot. We did typical friend stuff. Yes, we exchanged glances, but there was no overt flirting.
Then one time we hugged each other good-bye. It was one of those hugs that lingered, but not in an awkward way, in a blissful way. It didn’t feel weird, it felt utterly right.
If my life were a movie, that’s the point when Chet and I would have kissed and begun our life together. That didn’t happen. We said good-bye and called it a night.
We both acknowledged the moment. Chet wished she could take a “time out” from her relationship to explore things. I concurred. Eventually things got crazy that her boyfriend, Barbi, came down from Blue Valley one weekend to secure their relationship.
(Funny side note; Barbi really wanted to meet me and I was totally game, but I told Chet she could say no if it would make her feel too uncomfortable. She was cool with it and the three of us went shopping together.)
At the end of her internship Chet went back to school in Ivy Town. She got a job working at S.T.A.R. Labs in Midway City. She also married Barbi. They’ve got a family.
For the longest time my devotion to the idea that Chet was my soulmate was part of how I defined myself. I honestly believed that we’d be together one day. She was the majority shareholder of my heart; I had plenty of girlfriends after Chet, but I held back most of my heart for her.
I always believed that Zeus was a powerful deity who fell out of favor and is now a panhandler wherever gods hang out. But at one point so many people believed in him that he was undeniable.
For the longest time I was the sole believer that Chet and I would be together. I was the one who kept that alive and it took that responsibility seriously. I shouldered it like papoose and sheltered it like the Olympic flame.
But I’ve given up. No, that sounds too defeatist. I’m not quitting because I wasn’t actively doing anything. I guess I’ve just let it go.
I realized that in order for us to end up together Chet’s marriage would have to end and as much I care about her, I’d never want to see her hurt. So I let go.
Will we or won’t we? We won’t.
Mathan Erhardt is so mysterious that he didn’t provide a bio. But we can tell you he’s written for TV, the web, and possibly the marketing material for a kill crazy cult bent on world domination. He’s @SkipSerpico on Twitter and #1 in your hearts.