“I knew I should have
brought my wench!” says the guy next door.
I’m looking at him with
raised eyebrows so he sheepishly adds, “I didn’t mean you.”
Of that I had no doubt. Because if I were going to toss in my habit to be some guy’s wench I wouldn’t
be his--he’s too damn bossy.
He gives me step by directions on every
task I do in his presence, and even those done beyond it. In fact, he’ll give
me an itemized action list even when I’ve gone the task a million times, just
out of habit. Just IN CASE.
I know damn well now that
if I offer a suggestion as to how to haul his ATV out of the mud, he’ll get
pissed at me and do eleven other things that won’t work but which will piss him
off even more. He'll finally come ‘round to applying my suggestion, begrudgingly.
He’s a Systems Engineer by
trade, which explains a lot. Not just his propensity to annoy the daylights out
of me by constantly looming over my shoulder nagging me about whatever it is I’m
doing, but why he is compelled to do it and why he finds himself rutted.
My intuition tells me that
he tries to control things because he feels out of control. It’s just a hunch. But, why he says yes when he means no is
anyone’s guess. Says he thinks he excels
at communication, didn’t get where he is in his career not being good at it. I beg
to differ, but am wise enough to keep my mouth zipped on this touchy subject. He’s
neck deep in divorce negotiations at present and who am I to contradict what he
thinks is working. Besides, he’s not the only one who thinks they are stellar
communicators. Since neither of them is using a lawyer or mediator to work out the
sensitive details, I’m guessing that’s something that they didn’t fail at
as a couple.
He’s been saying “I didn’t
get where I am today…” statements lots lately, dwelling on where he’s at—I suppose--because
he’s got a birthday coming up. He’s been focusing on what he’s gleaned to date
in the process of living.
Only that’s the catch for
the likes of this guy—there is no detailed and approved process, no manual. We
are either friends or lovers or we aren’t. And, if we are, we do what it takes
to stay that way until we no longer have it in us to bother. Our efforts either
work for those with whom we are relating, or they don’t. There is either a
merging of minds, a common understanding, and peaceful acceptance, or there isn’t.
When there isn’t, its sheer agitation; there’s no engineering for that which
there is no set system. You just have to hobble through and cobble the loose,
ineffective bits. Whether the cobbling proves a success, in the end, is a tossup.
There’s just no knowing everything, and—as the saying goes—the only thing we
have control over is our attitude.
I remind him that he does
have a Bad-Boy, reckless side.
“You ride dirt bikes—competed
even, didn’t you? You’ve ridden ATV’s for years now—and we all know they’re a
crazy, rowdy lot. So, I’d think you’d be aware that there’s all sort of...” I
pause, grasping for an analogy. “All sorts of bumps in the road, right?”
I’ve hooked him with that
one.
“Bump steering,” he says
flatly, identifying with my message.
“Yes, exactly. And, as
much as we can know about the road or about the bike or about our own
proficiency at maneuvering, there are always unknown variables,” I continue.
“Yeah, but then we tend to
over correct and that can be a problem, too.”
I stop talking and just
smile at him, knowing he’s got it. Sometimes GND makes my job being his friend
easy.
So, although he's obviously struggling at present with managing his shift from choosing to be a
husband to choosing to not be, I think a part of him knows in his heart that he’ll
be left cobbling like the rest of us non engineer schleps. And, perhaps I’m the
only one who thinks his communication’s a bit lacking. I mean, heck, he
obviously had no trouble telling the estranged wife, who arrived unannounced a
few days ago and has been staying with him, about his new girlfriend. The new
one’s got stuff everywhere at his place and he didn’t delay in plastering his ‘frig
with photos of her and of them.
Shame then that they are
parting. Hard to find someone you like and love with whom you can communicate. What
I wouldn’t give to have communication props like those two!
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