So the wedding on Sunday night was awesome. My girlfriend looked like an amazing princess in her gown, my outfit blended beautifully & elegantly into the sea of other black evening gowns sported by fellow guests, and I ate copious amounts of delicious raw bar during the cocktail hour.
One thing that was not so awesome? Accidentally spilling my guts out to the Rabbi. We sat right right next to each other during dinner, and I had been so moved by his beautiful ceremony, so touched by the intimacy of the evening, that when he asked me, "How did you and the Mathematician meet?" I decided to answer him honestly. In great detail. Sharing every detail.
In my own defense, Sunday's horoscope predicted that I should take the opportunity to get in touch with my emotions: "You have been grounded too much in facts as of late," the stars said. "Take the opportunity today to open up and share your feelings. They are what gives you your unique strength, what makes you who you are."
So I listened. I took the Rabbi's question and ran with it, telling him the whole story of how the Mathematician and I met (at a friends wedding five years ago, while he was dating someone else and I was engaged to a different guy.) I explained my tumultuous break-up with the Ex and the drama that ensued a few days later when the Mathematician and I started to pursue a relationship (harassing phone calls, tears, drama drama drama.) I lamented how challenging it was for me to break off my engagement in the first place ("I felt like the only woman in the world who had ever done such a thing! I was was totally mortified and ashamed. Wah, wah, wah!") Pretty macabre stuff for a wedding, I know.
But there was more. So much more. On and on I went on this stream-of-consciousness rant, guided through the thin veil of champagne that had surreptitiously descended over my thoughts by his gentle, active listening techniques. "You're a really good listener!" I told him.
Then suddenly I veered in a completely different direction, telling the Rabbi all about this very intense dream I'd had the evening before, where I imagined that the Mathematician didn't love me as much as I loved him and that I had to break up with him in the dream and it was very, very sad and hurtful for me, but how in reality it didn't make any sense because I don't doubt the Mathematician's complete an utter devotion to me and commitment to our relationship, so "what do you think that means, Rabbi, that my mind was making me feel so alone like that...?"
When I paused to take a breath I realized: he was not nearly as into this conversation as I was. Oops! I think I just overshared.
The conversation ended pretty abruptly after that. The Rabbi left the dinner table, to mingle or get a drink, or perhaps simply to put as much distance as possible between himself and the crazy blonde seated to his left.
I was mortified...for a minute. Then I decided to forgive myself, slow down on the champagne, and try to keep it light for the rest of the evening.
I spent the rest of the night on the dance floor. It was much safer there.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
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Oh yeah, girl. Been there and DONE THAT too many times to count. Yeup!
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