The Girl Who Said No

Perhaps because I just had a birthday or because the holidays are a time when people are most lonely or because certain people I didn’t think I’d ever see again have reappeared in my life, I am thinking of two Yeats poems about love and time passing and death and memory.

A few days ago, it was decided that an ex friend of mine and CC’s would come and stay with me for one night.  I am somewhat sorry that I invited this woman to my house – we had one of those strange friendships that began and ended quickly. Still I want to see her even if all we might have to say to one another is hello and goodbye. I like to think if that is what will happen, at least we will be able to say it properly.

And then A made a reappearance though I don’t suppose that is a surprise to anyone.

My old trainer, stupid and perfect-bodied, started contacting me again.  We were never involved even though he once told me he loved me and called me boo. I laughed and never went back for another exercise session.

A few hours ago, a man I slept with a few times over the summer called me. This man, my dreamboat who turned out to be a footnote, as Elvis Costello once sang, wants to see me again.

Someday, if there are ever any grandchildren, would I share any of these stories with them? That is probably a strange thing to contemplate, especially for a girl who has turned down pretty much every sexual/romantic opportunity that has come her way in the last three months.

Not that any of the options listed above would lead to any kind of meaningful relationship but I am starting to worry that this self-imposed exile will turn me into the girl who said no and ended up with nothing.