If It Doesn't Fit, Force It (10/21/08 Tuesday)

I must insert my life between myself and Julie. What is that life? Where did it go? How can I again feel good about the thought of reading, something at which I've spent all of twenty minutes in the past week? What else do I have every day? Music has become a co-conspirator (enabler?) in this obsession; I can't listen to what doesn't remind me of Julie. The kids, even, can hardly distract me when they're over. And I think this has been good for me? If I could see personal growth along this way, I'd feel this was worth it; but I've read this journal over at least twice and seen the same questions in September that I asked in June. And the answers? Where are they? Are they in here? They are hidden well if they are here at all. I'm creating a puzzle I can't begin to solve.

One thing I've learned from the re-reading is to take a cue. After eating lunch today I stayed in the breakroom writing while waiting for Julie's arrival. I greeted her warmly, noted that she was on time and asked if she'd tutored. She said she had. She's usually late when she tutors. "You must have made record time," I said. She told me how the room had no clock and that the teacher--they teach as a group--usually does not inform them of the time. That was pretty much that, but it's a (re)start.

And I know where I'll go from there. If I'm to have any resolution I have to plow right in and ask for what I need to know, and that can only happen at the desk. I have to ask, say, "When you asked youself why I would ask to meet you at the coffee shop, what did you answer?" I also want to know if she had any foreshadowing of my intentions. If this is stepping on toes, she's going to have to keep dancing, because the music's not stopping. To make the emotional break from her I have to be unemotional, be dogged in pursuit of what will make the break for me. I don't see the possibility of hurting her as long as I harbor no bitterness, and to ensure that I have to have a plan. The plan is to have an agenda for every hour on the desk with Julie--a question, a theme of conversation--and pray for time to implement it. I'm confident Julie won't close me out. Though I am sure she'll continue guarding herself, I think that guard protects her emotionally when dealing with a candor such as I intend to implement. She will answer my questions, and I will slacken the line a bit but not let her off the hook. That will be the tricky part, following up her responses, hearing them from the viewpoint of logic and responding in kind. But no attacks, no forced retreats into the fortress. There has to be a meeting place, where chitchat and bald-faced candor can become a conversation, an engagement, a dialogue. I have to bring her there. God, what a thrill that would be! That would be a discovery!

But opportunity. When do I get that? The Library Card Challenge is on again this Thursday, so if the schedule hasn't changed we will be just as swamped and unable to interact. I'll have to bide my time, but it's those intervals that will be the most troublesome; I still have a great difficulty with the incidental moments of working with her. Every interaction is fraught with meaning--all mine, I'm sure--because all I want to talk about is her, yet she is safely insulated with coworkers, and I can barely look her in the eye, anyway. Another reason to get things out in the open. I won't say time is on my side, not till it and my patience kiss and make up, and their differences seem irreconcilable. But there's time for that, too, I suppose.