October 16, 2007

Et tu, E-$? (Part 1)

As I likely need not remind you, dear readers, it's been a pretty bad week—or month/year/lifetime, depending on your perspective. What with Cal's heartbreaking loss last week, I thought—nay, prayed—that perhaps I had hit rock bottom (for the time being, of course—misery in a lifetime clearly knows no bounds). As per usual, I was wrong: It's always darkest just before it goes pitch black. (If that expression appeals to you, check out this Demotivator®.)

What, curious readers might be wondering, could possibly be worse than a failure that nearly brought me to tears? Betrayal. That's what.

I got a call today from a friend from a past lifetime. Let's call her E-$.¹ Though we had not seen each other in many years, E-$ and I had nevertheless managed to remain close, communicating regularly over e-mail and instant message, and infrequently, over the telephone. Smart, witty, confident, and (extremely) motivated, she was one of the few people that I could say I had admired since the day we met. Our friendship seemed destined for: we were alike in most everything, and moreover, she shared many of my more controversial perspectives on life. (See, e.g., previous entries on love, marriage, etc.)

To be perfectly honest, had it not been for ill-timing, she would have likely been the solution to my much-touted (though never accomplished) romantic quest. Alas, it was not meant to be: we were both young and too interested in taking over the world to concern ourselves with ruining our lives—I mean, entering a relationship. (That lofty goal, i.e., to ruin my life, would come only much later for me, after I started working.)

In any case, I had just gotten home from school today when my phone started ringing. It was her. Odd, I thought, considering that E-$ rarely called me. As soon as I picked up the phone, I knew something was wrong: she sounded happy. What the hell? That never happened. Despondency was a virtue between us, and irrational anger a close second; happiness, contentment, love, the things normal people seek out, we consummately reviled.

Rohit: What's wrong?
E-$: Wrong? Nothing is wrong. Everything is great!
Rohit: OK, now I know something is wrong. What the hell is the matter with you?
E-$: (pause) Well... I'm not sure how to say this... but... I kind of met someone a while back. We've been seeing each other for a couple months.
Rohit: So? What's the big deal about that?
E-$: No, not met someone and now am dating them solely for ironic value like all your relationships; I actually like this guy. In fact, I love him. He proposed this weekend. We're engaged.
Rohit: What?

I felt a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as the reality of the situation came to bear. My friend, someone more adamant about the futility of idealistic love than I was; someone who had her entire life ahead of her; someone who actually had the potential to do something with her (necessarily futile) existence—as opposed to 99% of the worthless, oxygen-depleting wretches that pass for human beings—was going to throw it all away for a guy she met two months ago? It could not be. Not for E-$. She was better than all those worthless, love-struck idiots out there, mindlessly traipsing at terminal velocity towards a miserable, short-lived marriage followed by catastrophic, financially crippling, psychologically numbing divorce. What had happened? Where had things gone horribly awry? When did her life become a poorly directed romantic comedy that was anything but funny? I had to sit down as another wave of nausea came crashing down upon me.

Before she could respond, I told her I had to go. I would call her back promptly. I got off the phone, still consumed by shock and disbelief. If this could happen to her, a true pillar of strength in a wishy-washy world consumed by bullshit, what was in store for me?

To be continued....

¹ Usually, the use of rap nicknames only vaguely conceals the identity of the individual thus honored. However, the content of this article is of a personal nature, and consequently, the pseudonym is not reflective of her real name in any sense. Moreover, it is very unlikely that any of you out there actually know who this person is; don't assume otherwise.