Bitter Reason #123 ...

I was told differently by several of my closest friends but, as they say, love turns a blind eye.

Several months ago, a guy came into my life and, although I thought he was attractive, I never really talked to him much outside of ordering a drink. Yes, he was a bartender (warning bell #1). We were friendly towards one another and laughed and joked. Little did I know that he was attracted to me. I didn't find this out until one day, as he was getting off his shift, he whispered into my ear: "I am so tempted to just kidnap you." I had never expected that kind of comment from him and wasn't quite sure I heard correctly, but he just gave me a mischievous grin and walked away.

This little flirtatious battle went back and forth for a few weeks until one evening when we had decided to meet up for Kinky Quizzo at the Post. After a few drinks and alot of fun playing the game, we were suddenly lip-locked right there at the bar. This isn't something I'd normally do and all the other regulars were taken back by both our actions. We were both drunk and we ended up spending the night together at his place.

We played together one more time a week later and then, when my attraction became apparent to those around me and questions were being asked as to where this was leading, I was suddenly introduced to his boyfriend (warning bell #2).

All things considered, we became good friends. It had surprised us both to realize how similar we were and how much we had in common. But then, a few weeks later (this would be sometime in April), he disappeared from radar. He wouldn't return my calls. He wouldn't pick up his phone. He didn't go to work. I had no idea what I had said or done, but I sent him an e-mail stating simply that I've tried to contact him and have gotten no response and that the e-mail I was sending was going to be my last attempt of any contact.

Then I had a dream about him. In it, he had called me up in the middle of the night (after no contact for more than a week). Something was bothering him, but he wouldn't get into it on the phone. The dream seemed so real that, when I awoke, I was actually expecting him to show up at my door. It was a dream that had bothered me so much so that I had decided to make one last effort in contacting him. I showed up at the bar on the next night he was scheduled to work. I had every intention of asking him if everything was okay in his life; that I actually had a dream about him and it had disturbed me quite a bit. When I arrived at the bar, he seemed to be his old self and we did a couple of shots and I kept my mouth closed about the dream.

Three days later, I get a call out of the blue. It's him. He called to just say "hi", but I can hear something in his voice. I ask him what was wrong and I can hear him break down on the other end. I pleaded with him to tell me and suddenly his phone dies. I tried calling back, but just get his voicemail. For the rest of the day I call and call, but get the same result. After work, I walk by his apartment and see the shades drawn and the lights out. The next day, more calls, more voice mail. It's killing me, wondering what had happened to him; what he was about to tell me before getting disconnected.

I show up at the bar a few days later, expecting answers. The answer I had received wasn't what I had expected. His boyfriend tells me that he was in the hospital. I asked what happened and basically was told that it was a "mental breakdown".

(Flash Forward...)

It's now summer. Several months had gone by and our friendship grew stronger. In that time, he had broken up with his boyfriend. His own life was the important thing right now and a relationship was just adding stress. We grew closer as friends go and, although I never acted upon it since those first two drunken romps in the hay, my feelings for him continued to grow.

He was constantly throwing me mixed signals (warning bell #3): telling me that it's good we were friends, but that's all it should be, but then flirting with me and asking me to sleep over. He had actually said to me once: "How come you never asked me out on a date?"

Then he started to secretly date another friend(more like bar-buddy) of mine. He tried to deny it, but I had caught him in a number of lies and mixed-up stories. Sure, I was jealous, but it wasn't my place to say anything. I kept my mouth shut. He then told me one night that he got dumped. When I asked by who, he gave me a look that said I already knew (which I did).

Then he tried reconciling things with his old boyfriend. I think that lasted a day. Then one afternoon, the topic turns back to us. We started discussing all the things we have in common and how well we know each other. He told me he thinks about what it would be like if we dated, but was afraid it would damage the friendship if something should happen. I told him I agreed, but deep down inside, what scared me most was the fact that, as much as I cared for and loved this guy, I knew he would eventually hurt me. It's in his nature (warning bell #4).

But again, love turns a blind eye. I've helped him through some trying times over the last few months. I would come to his aide at the drop of a hat, leaving whatever I was doing for a later time. I've been a good friend, a good listener and a good shoulder to cry on. I never once asked for anything in return from him except honesty.

The other night I witnessed another breakdown. I held him and wouldn't let go, while whispering into his ear to relax. I walked him to a friends, so he wouldn't be alone that night. I called him the next day to make sure he was okay. Everything seemed fine (for the most part).

Alittle after 10 that night he called me with the sudden announcement that he was leaving town, moving to New England as soon as possible (so soon that he also said his sister was driving down as we spoke to pick him up). All he planned to take were his clothes and money. He didn't care about anything else.

My heart was being ripped apart. Not only was I on the verge of losing my best friend, but also someone I had fallen head over heals for (even though I knew it was wrong). He knew the news had upset me. He mentioned moving away before, but decided against it. He said he wanted to explain things to me and asked me to come over. When I showed up there a few minutes later, there were 3 other guys (including the "bar-buddy" he had been/was dating) and him in his apartment, all laughing and drinking and watching some dumb-ass drag queen video on his computer. I was floored by what was going on. He knew I wanted to talk yet he barely even acknowledged my presence in the room (just a nod and a pointed finger towards the beer). I pretended to get a phone call and quickly made my escape.

About a half hour later he called me: "You're supposed to be here." My response was cold, basically saying that I had to take a phone call and I hope he has a safe trip and a better life in New England. I could tell by his tone that he was either taken back by my response or was angry with me. I hung up, but called him back several minutes later and apologized, telling him that I was hurting and felt very uncomfortable walking into a room full of people when I thought it was just going to be us two talking.

That night I barely slept. I kept wondering what could've happened in those 24 hours that would make him up and move, leaving everything behind. I wanted to talk to him, but at the same time I was kind of pissed. I felt I deserved better than this. After all the times I've been there for him, all the talks we've had where I helped him through one problem or another, all the times I've held him when things were bad. I deserved a helluvalot more than a couple of hours' notice and then being invited into a roomful of people when I was expecting a talk.

I deserve an answer dammit!!

And last night I got it...

I was at the bar again and ran into his on-again/off-again boyfriend who "accidentally" let it slip that he never went to New England the other night. He never even left the city. He's been holed up in his apartment for the last 48 hours. I still haven't gotten a phone call. In fact, as of last night, I'm one of the few people who the boyfriend was specifically instructed not to tell of him being in the city.

The anger inside of me is boiling over. I've exhausted my time and energy on helping him get passed his own problems while putting my own at bay. I've fallen for a guy who I know is a game player, but I try to see beyond it. I've been there for him time and time again.

And this is the fucking thanks I get?

WELL FUCK HIM!!!!!