1. He cooked me some kind of goulash involving beets. He took my feet in his lap and we listened to NPR. Calm cave-like silence broken only by the wash of cold rain on the window.
2. “God, that’s so weird. I just mentioned that song to you – and now it’s playing on the radio! Isn’t that so weird??” “Not weird at all. Sheer coincidence.” “Thanks for the sunshine, pal.” “Who loves ya, baby.”
3. On our first date, we went to Ear Inn, drank beer, and played hangman on the white-paper tablecloths. He also drew me a cartoon about the Masons – their journey across the sea, their trajectory. I can still see the little figures on the tablecloth. Irish musicians were playing jigs. He didn’t kiss me that night. But it was something to look forward to.
4. He got annoyed when I would be clumsy, or roll his eyes when I tripped. Our kitchen had dizzying black-and-white tile. I got dressed up for Easter and this confused him.
5. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I was inconsolable. My sobs heaved through the tiny house. He drew me a bath, letting hot water fill up the old-fashioned claw-footed tub. I was pacing like a caged animal, sobbing. He didn’t say anything, but gently put me in the bath. I became passive, quiet, calm. My face was puffy. He put the top of the toilet seat down, sat beside me and read out loud to me from Peter Manso’s biography of Marlon Brando.
6. He used to be a Chippendale dancer. On our first date, he took me to the Music Box Theatre on Southport. We saw a documentary about AIDS.
7. He took a nap during his brother’s wedding reception, abandoning me with all of the strangers, I knew no one. I went up to visit him. He lay on a couch in an upper room, in his tux, so asleep I thought he might have died. He was black-haired, gorgeous and Italian. I sat by him as he slept, the party raging downstairs, the Macarena emanating through the floorboards, and put my hand on his forehead. It was burning hot.
8. The cast-iron gates of Ranelagh gleamed black in the rain. He walked me back to my house from the ridiculous disco we had just been ensconced in, shouting at each other over the music, about politics and Sweden and police states and journalism and the EU. I was leaving Ireland in 2 days, so this was it. It was over. We turned onto my block, and he said, “Aw, aren’t these gates lovely?” I said, “They remind me of ‘The Dead’.” He stopped in his tracks, gave me a look – a look I had already come to know so well – and said, openly, “You. You understand me. You understand us.”
9. His cheeks glowed in the cold, as we walked through the snowy bird sanctuary, and occasionally he would gently take my hand to lead me across an icy patch, or to guide me towards something he wanted me to see. The next day, in school, he ignored me, acted as though none of it had even happened.
Love the whole idea of this post. It has me composing similar paragraphs about my own life–How do you sum up complex, multi-faceted relationships in a few sentences, and still capture the essence? AND, do justice to the other person. No matter the outcome, or present circumstances, once there was connection. How to be fair to that, yet succinct–and interesting.
DBW – it was fun. I wanted to keep going. I might add to it as I think of more.
Oh and I would say that some of these are probably not fair at all. #4 is definitely not “fair” – but that’s my memory, and what I am left with.
I wonder if the boys I’m writing about would be able to recognize themselves in this post. Kind of a multiple-choice quiz-type thing. “Which one is YOU??”
Oh, I would think any reasonable man would recognize himself in those vignettes–even if unflattering. At least some of us are aware of our shortcomings—or, I guess I should say failings. LOL.
ha! Yes, that’s true.
I’m pretty sure dude in #2 could not pick himself out, though. Even though he knew me the best, probably. But I mean – who remembers such conversations word for word?? I do, apparently! I even remember where we were when that exchange occurred – and it was 5 million years ago. I’m a freak like that. But even in that moment, I thought: Okay. Right there? That exchange? That is us. I cannot explain it – but that is us!
I’ll do some more. It was kind of cleansing, actually.
You should try it, DBW! Just on your own, of course – in a notebook. Might be interesting!
I tied one end of the rope to the crushed fender and the other to the electric pole. She gave me a doubtful look. “Is that going to work?” she asked. “Trust me,” I said. She looked away, smiling a little. “Trust me, he says.”
Megan adds to the game:
Relationships in a paragraph. I find these fascinating for some reason. Miniatures. Gold nuggets at the bottom of a sieve. Here’s mine….
Bernard – wonderful!!
She routinely told waitstaff it was my birthday when it wasn’t. She did this at the Dunkin Donuts one day as we headed towards campus for rehearsal. They gave us free donuts.
Bren – ha!! I get the whole thing in one paragraph.
She always had a drink nearby. Everything about those eight months involves some kind of a drunken haze. The hangover never started until we tried to talk.
(OK. I’m not so good at this).
I learned of your blog from dameonline.net and i have to say thanks for the idea. You really know how to capture a person in only a few lines.
I absolutely love this post! I understand that some people may question the feasibility of encapsulating an entire relationship in one paragraph. I don’t think that’s in question… it’s just not doable. And it’s beside the point. This feels to me more like a very personal exercise and one that sparks the reader’s interest, curiosity and imagination. It makes one wonder what it was about each of those moments that made their impact so enduring.
“Go Ask Sheila”
Illegal activities will be described in the following post (from many many years ago – relax!). Don’t read on if you have a problem with that….