I was prepared to defend myself when it occurred to me that I had, indeed, completely forgotten to call her back.
I had called her 5-10 minutes earlier. She was just pulling up into her driveway. We chatted about nothing and I offered to call her when she got indoors. She said okay. She told me to call in 5 minutes.
And then I entered another world. I left the world of Rhea and phone calls and entered some world of whatever I was working on.
When the phone rang, I paused to make sure it was my extension. Three rings later, I was pretty sure it was. On the other end of the phone, all I heard was "you never call me back."
I was shocked.
Shocked at how quickly my senility is progressing.
And shocked that it was Rhea this time. Usually the phone calls I forget are other people: guys, strangers, wrong numbers. You know....the phone calls you're either not expecting or not expecting much from.
But Rhea?
I always call Rhea back.
Or so I thought I did.
Earlier in the day I had engaged in a related conversation with a housemate who shall remain nameless. She wondered how anyone - guy or girl - could end a flirtation, romance or relationship without a phone call or other communication.
She said "You would never do that!!"
I think I heard Boo laugh.
Apparently the housemate doesn't know me very well yet. But don't worry. I set her straight. I explained to her about my lack of a need for closure. And my complete comfort for letting things die natural deaths.
"Would you want someone to do that to you?" she asked emphatically.
I guess my answer would have to be that I don't care. I was scared to tell her.
I know I sounded cold eeking out those words, but I just couldn't imagine calling somebody to tell them I wouldn't be calling them or having somebody call me to tell me that.
Especially when I have trouble enough calling people I truly do want to call.
I explained that I've never had to call somebody to break up because nobody I date is used to me calling them back anyway. In fact, if I did call them back, that alone would trigger suspicion.
"Hi. I know I never call you, but I thought I would call you this one time. There's something I want to tell you...."
Whoa, Rudolph!! Major red flag!!
But you see? It all comes down to my same old argument:
People ALWAYS act in character.
One of my obsessions of late has been the tendency - I won't yet call it a fact - for people to act similarly in most aspects of their lives.
I don't call people back in friendship or romance. I wouldn't tend to call them back in breakup.
Another example?
A friend going through a divorce is having a horrific time. There's no amicable involved in this divorce. No negotiation. No settling. No agreement.
This divorce is all about dispute.
As well it should be. Since the marriage was all about dispute.
I wondered why anybody thought an angst-burdened marriage should be an angst-free divorce. It only seems logical that the breakup will usually mirror the relationship. It only seems logical that the parties involved in the breakup will carry on with the same roles they played in the marriage.
When my last relationship ended, folks wanted to know if there had been discussions and confrontations and questions and challenges laid down.
Of course not. There were no discussions, confrontations, questions or challenges during the relationship. Why would there be any during the break up? Not logical. The break up followed the same exact pattern as the relationship: two folks just getting along and not rocking the boat. Or maybe not rocking two separate boats.
So anyway, I guess some people - perhaps many - identify themselves as needing closure. I identify myself as someone who doesn't. This morning I met the others.
This morning the Metro "discontinued service" on the Orange and Blue lines.
This isn't really something you want to hear while you're sitting on a Metro train en route to work.
Apparently, somebody who needed Friday off called in a bomb threat or two.
The Metro announcer told everyone on the train that there was "police activity" at certain stations and that there would be delays. When the train stopped thirty seconds later, he told us that this was the type of delay he had warned us about. After that there was about three minutes of delay for every ten seconds of movement.
A half hour later, the train stopped. And it sat. And then it just sat some more.
And then, after a long while, we were told to get off of the train. Cause it was out of service. Because of the "police activity."
So I got off of the train. With all the other people. And their cell phones. And more trains pulled up to let out their people and cell phones. It was just one big massive crowd of Washingtonian commuters with confused faces and cell phones. And bad clothes.
Just for the record, Washington is no New York.
Anyway, I got on an eerily empty train that soon rolled up headed in the opposite direction. I wasn't going home. But I figured I'd get to something warm. A bus or a cab or my car...and head toward DC via another route.
I got onto the empty Metro along with some others. And the train pulled away from the station. And a bunch of us looked back to see throngs of Metro commuters standing on the train platform.
I guess they were waiting.
I have no idea what they were waiting for.
I guess they were waiting for closure? In the cold? When they were already late for work?
Metro experienced delays. And then Metro shut down. At least on the Orange and Blue lines. And then Metro kicked us all off. In the middle of nowhere. Or in Northern Virginia. And now all of these people were just standing in the cold, late for work, yearning for warm coffee and a humming computer...and waiting for closure.
I didn't need closure. I saw the light. Metro had other things on its mind besides me this morning. Apparently, police activity was more important than getting me to McPherson Square.
And you know what? That's okay.
Because I didn't need closure. And I didn't need Metro.
I just ended up needing Kerry, a very cool looking girl with a wardrobe similar to mine and an office address close to mine. I just needed Kerry to give me a ride into DC. Kerry was cool and fun and her car was at the Metro station.
Best of all, with Kerry, I finally qualified for HOV-2 on I-66!
I didn't need closure. I just needed to move on...in the direction of DC.
So, of course Metro never called me today.
In fact, I imagine Metro will never call me or even reimburse me the $1.20 I wasted getting on, traveling two Metro stops, turning around and traveling back three.
But it's okay. Because I've never asked Metro for any of that, so why ask now.
I think our little tiff today is a perfect reflection of our relationship as a whole.
And with that, I'm packing up and heading home.
When I see Metro tonight, I'll be happy. No misgivings. No bad memories. No grudge.
Just me and Metro. Getting along and not rocking the boat. Or maybe that's the train.