April takes me to church

Yesterday, as I was driving to my dental appointment, I got a text from April. She just wanted to say "hi." She'd spotted me driving through Marysville, and she identified me as wearing a blue and white plaid shirt. This made me happy for a number of reasons. 

First, I will admit, I'd been thinking about her recently with some fondness and listless regret. If only things had been different, could be different. I really did/do like her. For all her troubles and struggles, she has a big heart and an amazing capacity for self-reflection. And she's never afraid to ask the hard questions of herself, sharing the most intimate details of her life in our support group meetings.  

As a facilitator for DBSA, I have been kicking myself for allowing personal feelings make me act in ways that, given her vulnerability, may have been inappropriate. I feel we had a connection and that it was genuine, however hormonally driven on my part. When we had our couple of days of flirting with the idea of a relationship, I was over the moon, but when it ended suddenly, and she quit the group, I was crushed. I felt like I'd set her back on her mental health journey, and I was having a hard time living with that.

She did make it back to the group, though, and my pangs of conscience started to ease. She was the same old April, struggling with her past and trying to navigate the mental landscape of her current condition. I still have feelings for her, and although I no longer have hopes or expectations for a relationship, I am rooting for her to find peace within herself. And it makes me happy that she is no longer blocking me on her phone and that she reached out, if for no other reason that to say "hi."

All that to say this: I had a brief dream of her last night. In the dream, I met her outside of a church. We were standing in the parking lot, and there was a partially stripped Model T parked in the pastor's parking spot. April was standing in the middle of the frame, and I was on the outside, separated from her by the metal chassis. 

I said hi to her and reiterated just how glad I was that she'd made it back to group. She responded with a nervous smile and thanked me. I really wanted to hug her, but I didn't want her to feel like I was reverting back to the same old puppy dog stuff I'd pulled in the past. I wanted her to think I'd matured and learned from my mistakes. I couldn't help myself, though, and I went in for the hug anyway.

She squirmed, and I knew instantly that I'd made a mistake. I tried to deflect by making small talk.

"Looks like we have a new pastor," I said. "I hope he's a good one."

She made a half-hearted reply and rushed into the church as it began to fill up. I followed at a slower pace, and as I walked through the doors, I saw the pastor standing on the front steps. He was muttering to himself, although not so quietly as to be unheard by me.

"Oh, great. I can't believe I am seeing another one of these goddamn things," he griped, referring to what, I don't know. The church? The congregation? 

I was not impressed, and I thought to tell April, but she'd already made it inside and found a seat. The place was filling up fast, and I was forced to take a seat in the back next to a fellow in a tweed suit who wasn't particularly thrilled to have me for a pew neighbor. I looked through the hymnal to distract myself and waited for the service to begin.

That's all folks. I woke up to my regularly scheduled boring Thursday of non-activity. I'm taking it easy because of all the health stuff that I've had going on. I have to eat mushy food for a couple of weeks while my gums heal around the implant post. After that, I will get my new tooth, and who knows, perhaps I will even find occasion to smile.