||[Nov. 3rd, 2015|12:01 am]
My friend Chris had a baby in August.|
I was like...suuuuuuuper gross in love with Chris back when I used to update this journal regularly. I met him when I was 16 and he was 21, and he was the MOST INTERESTING PERSON EVER. He had an apartment in Brooklyn and listened to Mogwai and Stereolab and other bands I'd never heard of and I desperately wanted to be cool enough for him. We made out a few times when I was a teenager, and then after I graduated college, I flew to San Francisco and fell in love with him all over again for a week and he broke my heart in a million little pieces.
I don't think I've ever had a crush like the one I had on Chris. Like no one has ever made me feel that insanely, irrationally, desperately in love. I guess it's stupid to call that in love; I was never in love with him; but kind of I was.
Anyway. Chris is old now. I am 30, so I guess that makes him 35? He sent me the instagram feed he set up to share pictures of his son. His beard is spackled with white and gray, and he looks kind of chubby and tired.
He is kind of an asshole. I mean, he was an asshole for treating me poorly when I was young and dumb and in love with him. Since his girlfriend got pregnant, I realized that he is actually just an asshole. He is super pretentious and sanctimonious -- every conversation about his girlfriend's pregnancy and his kid are thinly veiled opportunities for him to brag about shit.
And, you know, it took 14 years, but the spell is broken. I am so glad that I didn't end up with him, or someone like him. I often wonder if I did the wrong thing, marrying someone who I didn't feel that kind of irrational, obsessive, crush/love feeling for -- I always wonder if my marriage was the wrong choice. But I married someone who I am compatible as shit with, and no matter how gray and white Sean's beard gets, I won't love him any less. I liked Chris because he was insanely hot and so mysterious and jesus christ I'm so glad I married the man I married instead of a mystery.
I mean. Not that Chris ever would have married me anyway. So, you know, thank god for small favors. Shit really has a way of working itself out, I guess, is the moral of the Chris story.