"I've decided to stop having sex with him. He understood once I told him why." Pause. My curiosity is killing me.
"Can you tell me?" I'm surprised by how gentle I sound. I hardly ever let myself get really gentle with this girl.
"He won't be able to figure out if he really loves [the mother of his child]. Like, if he wants to marry her or not. We both need clarity."
Suddenly I desperately want to ask her the question that's been lurking between us for 3 years. Does she think it was a mistake to marry the Boy? She is the only one of my friends who did not like him. She knew him first, of course. There were stories there, but I've forgotten them now. Oh God, I want to ask her. I'm afraid I already know the answer.
But I know how impolite such a question would be. Some things cannot be asked because sometimes every answer is impossibly destructive. Fortunately the moment passed and I went back to contemplating this new development in her life.
"I think you'll like yourself better now," I said finally. "I don't think you ever disliked yourself; I think you were really honest about what was going on. But I think you need to know where you stand to be truly happy. Or maybe I'm just projecting because that's what I would need."
I realize that I like her better now. It never mattered what she was doing and with whom; I didn't like her any less because of it. But it's true that I like her better now. And that makes me smile because I really didn't think it was possible to like her more. No matter what she thinks of the Boy and what she does to me because of that, to stop liking her would be to amputate something good about myself.
I can't wait to be back now. Some days it's easy to look forward to moving to Toronto.
* * *
3 years ago today: The spectre of failure is sleeping on my couch these days.
