Last-Ditch Effort

A desperate final attempt. This expression alludes to the military sense of last ditch, “the last line of defense.”

I think I was confusing pride with jealousy. After all, I was not in love with Marcus and if I’m being completely honest, I’m not even certain that I liked him. So why did I keep clinging to a notion that somehow, I could turn this dance of ours into a full fledged relationship? I suppose, it is because that was what I truly craved, not the man, but the idea of being in a relationship.

It was the 4th of July, my favorite holiday. It’s my favorite because there are no presents, no costumes, no pressure. You can eat whatever you like all day long and enjoy a parade, or not. Basically, it is a day of freedom to choose what you’d like to do and honor the country that allows you that freedom. Then, there’s fireworks! What a glorious, pride swelling way to end the day. I had sent Marcus a message that evening, hoping that he would have a chance to see some fireworks. Not being an American, I was curious if he understood the importance of the day, but there was no response. I snidely thought, maybe he was with Mary Stevens, the woman who was commenting on all his Facebook posts. Oh bother.

He responded the following morning stating that he did see fireworks on Lake Shore Drive, but the trees had blocked his view. Me being the helper help-person that I am, I sent him a series of videos of the show I had seen with an amazing view, but they were too large and didn’t go through. I told him that I will have to show them to him another time. He said he would be home at 7pm. Huh?

I wrote back that I was working and had to open the next day. “Tomorrow is fine will be waiting for you” Huh? Instead of responding to that message, I invited him to karaoke the next week for my birthday. If we were going to be friends, this is what friends do, they invite each other to events and outings. So he asked that I call him the day of the event and left it at that.

I kept thinking about him and what he was up to. So I went to his Facebook page and scrolled through his postings. As usually, most of them were very political, referring to the country he had come from or of humor I just didn’t understand. However, almost every single post was “liked” by Mary Stevens…bitch. Who is she anyway to be “liking” his posts and where did she come from? After two nights of doing this to myself, I had to ask, so I did. I sent Marcus a text message, “Ok, I need to ask. Who is Mary Stevens?”

Within a few minutes, he responded, “She is a friend we became friends on fb through a friend who studied at the university where she works in Arizona”. The green faced demon lurking inside me responded, “I think she is more than a friend and if that is the case, you need to stop trying to kiss me. She is obviously interested in you.”

“You are so funny, so anybody interested in me means there is something, please what are you doing now am home come over”. I wrote back that I was going to bed, but thank you for answering my question. He responded by stating that I sound like I needed to visit him and that I should come over. I had explained that I had been thinking about him and how I enjoyed him, but then I remember that he is not interested in having a relationship with me and I get sad. “I’m sorry that I’m not who you want me to be and I need to be honest with myself.” Have I ever been honest with myself? There have been so many lies I chose to live with. Why not this one?

“I want more than sex, so I suppose I need to cross my legs and be patient. Hopefully, I will find someone who wants what I want as well.” To which he responded, “Why are you sounding like this, at least before you find someone we can keep ourselves company and enjoy the moment perhaps things might work in the direction we both want”. I sat there on the edge of my bed rereading his message over and over again. There it was, the sliver of hope, the hope I cling to with all my might. There is a chance, slim to none, but still a chance that I could have the relationship I so desperately want and continually am willing to live with a lie than let go of.

I slept on it and wrote back in the morning, “You have a valid point. We shall see.” I was in control, right? I was the one who didn’t really like him, I just wanted to use him for sex, boost my ego and take care of my libido, right? I could do this. I could just have fun, play games, be whatever I wanted to be, just like I had done with John “The Pilot”. I could meet up with Marcus, have my fill of him and be on my way, right?

His response, “Smiles, ooh yes.”

“Do you want to marry me?”