My friendship with Meg was complicating my plans for a future with Priscilla—spending time with her had been mad and exciting but the late night drinks at the Flatiron Building marked a watershed in our relationship.
Meg's free-spirited ways were intoxicating in more ways than one and I felt I was being pulled in opposite directions. I was drawn on the one hand by the comforting prospect of stable marriage with Priscilla and on the other, felt myself succumbing to the strong undertow of emotions I always felt when Meg and I went off on one of our madcap adventures.
After spending the night drinking with her at the Flatiron Pub I couldn't get to sleep—I was haunted by vivid visions of her bright lips and shimmering red hair.
The next day at work we both looked wasted, but Meg seemed to revel in our co-workers’ knowing glances and not too subtle comments.
It was then I realized our flirtatious relationship had gone too far, and decided to reel it in.
I made myself less available and there were no more noon hour ‘errands’ or impulsive outings after work.
Meg became subdued, and gradually somber—and then one day she didn’t turn up for work. I thought she’d be gone a day but it turned into a week.
Murray, the head of marketing, knowing we were friends, asked if I’d drop by her home and hand deliver a file for her to work on. I reluctantly agreed.
Yes, I was conflicted, but with her, it seemed I always was.
Besides, I was right in pulling back on our relationship —at least that’s what I told myself.
I knew I just couldn’t keep opening doors into that other reality. Priscilla was safe and predictable—but Meg made me dizzy—gave me vertigo. With her, I felt I could fly.
I scrunched my eyes trying to ward off the images, but visions spiralled toward me—a phantasmagoria of coming home to Priscilla, to a fireplace and comfortable den with drinks the colour of water freshly stirred.
And following right behind, Meg’s alternate reality. I’d open the door and step off into a starry universe. Like a lucky penny tossed in a well, I was falling then and I was falling still.
No! I shouted in my head. I needed permanence—stability—to be grounded. I knew what Meg was—what she represented. She was a vagrant wish beckoning me away from responsibility and sensible living.
It was my time to settle down, to man-up and grow up. It was fun while it lasted, but this non-affair was best ended. I’d fly to the Cape, give Priscilla her ring, and together we’d begin building our dream.