Made old offenses of affections new

My near-invulnerability continues.  I left my shiny new iPhone on the roof of my car, drove around down for a few miles; when I braked for a light, it slid gracefully down the windshield and came to rest on the wiper.  I didn't even have to get out of the car to retrieve it.

And it was a rental car.  My ancient Toyota needed more repairs than it was worth and I had left it at the shop overnight to consider my options.  The next morning the mechanic called me, told me that there had been a small fire.  No one was hurt, his shop was damaged only lightly, but my car was gutted.  He was very apologetic, and more important, his insurance company was very apologetic and they're buying me a brand new used Toyota.

Then there was Selena.

A long time ago, in ancient days, before I even started this blog, my friend Andy had a girlfriend.  Her name was Selena and she was a very odd girl.  She had a tendency to ask personal questions, but she would never, ever answer them.  I would ask her the most innocuous things -- where she worked, where she was born, even her last name -- and her mouth would draw out in a tight line and she'd shy her head away like a horse refusing a bridle.  Even Andy, who knew her better than anyone else, couldn't tell me the provenance of Todd, her four-year-old son, only that she had once, in an unguarded moment, said that her and Andy's two-month-long fling constituted the longest-lasting romantic relationship in her life.

Andy, as was his wont, fucked it up.  He said something to her, or asked her something, that she found unforgivable.  He wasn't sure what it was, but since he had alienated every other girlfriend he'd ever had, I wasn't surprised or even that curious.

And it solved a problem of mine.  Truth was, I had developed a slight crush on Selena.  Not something that kept me awake, but enough to feel guilty when she was around, for wanting to screw my friend's girlfriend. It wasn't her appearance -- the truth is, I don't even remember what she looked like -- but her fierce sense of privacy (and the emotional vulnerability it suggested) appealed to me.

Once they broke up, I was free in some sense to try to seduce her.  I didn't try, not because I didn't have any idea how to seduce her (although I didn't) or because my wife had not yet given her go-ahead -- I didn't try simply because I didn't have her phone number.  Or email address.  Or home address.  I didn't know her last name or anyone who knew her except her son Todd and of course, Andy, who would certainly react poorly to any request from me for an ex-girlfriend's contact information.

A few months ago, I happened to check out Andy's Facebook page.  Hey, there was Selena.  I guess they kept in touch.  I sent her a friend request, and we exchanged a few emails, but what could I say?  Uh, you want to, uh, sleep with me?

Night before last, though, things changed.  I had already briefed Andy on the Catherine situation, and he was offensively knowing, but I let it slide.  Then I told him about the Matt situation -- that twice I had shown up out of nowhere and took his date away from him -- and asked Andy to keep an eye on him.  Mistake.  It turns out, Matt isn't just an acquaintance of Andy's, he's one of Andy's best friend.  I tried to explain how important this was to me, but Andy is nothing if not obstinate.

Night before last, we went out for a bite.  He didn't say anything about it, but I guessed he was still upset.  He kept at me, sniping and chiving.  Eventually, he went too far and outright insulted me.  I asked for an apology and when he refused, I just walked away.

It upset me more than I would have guessed.  I drove home, my hands trembling on the wheel, then paced angrily around my house.  Finally, I emailed Selena, asked her to call me.

I won't try to dissect my motives for writing her.  There are a dozen competing reasons I could have written to her, pick one.  Hell, pick them all.

She called back today.  We talked for a long time.  She's opened up a lot, which candidly, disappointed me.  I liked the old, tough Selena better.  Mostly, she told me, she wants to get married.  Her boy needs a father, she needs a permanent relationship.

We made a date to go have coffee, but I really shouldn't have.  The woman doesn't need me, doesn't need another married boyfriend (another tiny bit of personal history she let slip to Andy, that she had a history with married men, and he duly blabbed to me).  She needs a real boyfriend and eventually a real husband.

But I still would like to talk to her.