Dear Santa (12/16/08 Wednesday)

Overheard a bit of conversation: One woman asked another about a particular relationship. The other said, "I know he's attracted to me, but I'm not really attracted to him. I wish I was. He's a really nice guy. Maybe if I hang out with him more, he'll grow on me." There's hope for one guy out there, anyway. Should I tell him? Isn't it his right to know someone's talking about him?

For many years it was my policy to not make friends at work. Hindsight wishes I'd stuck to it. It's felt good having someone to talk to at work, but it hasn't paid. Who can one trust? to not talk to others? to not leave? Chris talked, and Hinckley's leaving. Stacey is yet conspicuously silent regarding my recent travails. She doesn't know how much she's saying anyway. She knows what Chris did, and she knows how I feel about it, but she doesn't want to lose any of the friends she's made at work. She hasn't lost me, just some of my respect. She'll work harder not to lose Chris than to keep me. Has this cost her Julie or Jennifer? If it has, she can ask Chris to pay up. After Hinckley leaves this week I'll be on my own there. I'd rather be on my own somewhere else. I don't expect what I've asked of Tammy to come to pass; it's a lot to ask; but I hope I have an idea when I get back to work Thursday which way the ball is rolling.

I won't play the martyr. What, after all, is the saintly cause? There may be something noble in my indignation, and certainly ignominy is ill-deserved, but I do have something to answer for, if only to myself. This was never anyone else's business, but I couldn't keep it to myself, and my exhibitionistic attitude drew down my defenses and better judgement of who I could trust. Was it the best way I could have pushed the envelope? What was I actually pushing? What was the challenge I was trying to meet? Resolution. I needed to hear the truth from Julie. She finally said, "I don't feel the same way about you." To have said that in Stir Crazy, instead of leaving the door open to hope by sparing my feelings, would have gone a long way toward obviating this ugly conclusion. Expressing her fear then, as she finally did last week, of all this exploding down the road, would have defused the bomb. I don't take hints. Tell me the truth. Yes, I'm different. I'm not every other guy. I'm only hurt that she couldn't tell. The truth was all I really wanted.