Jonathan Bruty settled into the chair opposite me, looking unsettled. It was two days after the showdown and I still wasn't in a great mood. I'd done what I thought needed to be done, and it wasn't settling well with me. This seemed to be my life, and it was not a fun one. Clearly I'd done something pretty heinous in a past life and I just wish I could remember what it was I had done in that life that I was still obviously paying for.
We were in Zorba's cocktail bar, just west of Naperville downtown. This was, apparently, more of a Johnathan hangout than mine, but that was okay. Always good to scope out new places.
He'd asked me to meet him there, he wanted to talk to me about something 'away from everyone else.' I was unsure what this meant but I was willing to go along. I'd arrived twenty minutes early because I'd misestimated the time to get there. Ten minutes of that had been spent just trying to understand what was on the cocktail menu! All drinks I'd never heard of, and I was having a hard time imagining how the combinations in the alcohol in the drinks described would taste. I had decided the only way to know was to try something and was waiting for it to arrive when Johnathan arrived.
He did look troubled.
"Hey Jonathan," I said, as he sat down. Always Jonathan, never John, or Johnny boy, a fact entirely lost on Solomon.
"Hello Ryan," he said, correctly. Jonathan was nothing if not correct. He was the kind of person who was always grammatically correct, even in texts. He once told me that when the new IOS version that allowed editing of texts arrived, it was 'such a relief in his life'. Jonathan was quite buttoned up.
I still, to this day, had no idea why he wanted me as a friend. He was a lawyer, for god's sake. I am far from the kind of guy a lawyer would want to hang out with, at least I would have thought.
"So, what's up?" I said, brightly.
"Umm..." he said, uncharacteristically. Well that boded well. His wife couldn't be stepping out on him, surely? It was a measure of how my life had gone to date that this was the first thing that occurred to me.
"Ryan, we've been friends a while now," he said, carefully, "and I just really wanted to talk to you about... well, you. Let me get a drink."
I was taken aback. Me? What about me? Also, a drink? This early in the day? That was out of character for him, decidedly so...
I crossed my arms and waited for him. "I am agog, Jonathan. Do, please, go ahead!"
He took a breath, started to say something, stopped and then started again.
"You've been through some pretty crappy times. Deanna. Olivia. Now Lydia. Life has not been kind to you."
I shrugged. He wasn't wrong.
"The thing is, I'm sure that you must be drawing conclusions. I mean, the only thing in common with everything here, is you?"
That did take me a bit. Yes, of course I was the common denominator here. I had thought long and hard on this myself. The conclusion I came to is that either I was just extremely unlucky, absolutely blind when it came to women I wanted a relationship with, or I had very poor decision making skills. Probably a bit of all three. I just couldn't seem to clinch the deal, and even when I did, it all went pear shaped after a while. I had just decided that this was life for me. For some people, it all falls into place, and for others, it doesn't. And I was one of the latter.
Of course every time life kicked me in the balls again, I'd mope and ask why repeatedly, and just generally feel like crap. And it must be something to do with me, because it happened repeatedly.
Apparently Jonathan must have come to the same conclusion.
"The thing is, I think you
are
somewhat responsible for the situations you find yourself in. But not in the way you might think." He added the last bit hastily.
"You aren't some kind of loser, or a terrible human, or a poor judge of character, Ryan. It's important you understand that, because I think you do think that sometimes."
I sat back, and just watched him. I didn't have anything to say to this. I wanted to hear what he had to say.
He looked at me to see how I was taking this, concern on his face. When he saw that I wasn't exploding or reacting at all, I could see him screw up his courage and carry on.
"The thing is, we are friends, and I can't in good conscience not say what's on my mind. I hope you understand that what I say, and the fact that I say it comes out of concern for you, not anything else. I know I am risking our friendship with me saying this, but... I have to do it. You need to hear it, I think."
Another glance in my direction, to confirm I was hearing him.
I nodded. "I get it Jonathan, say what's on your mind. I'm listening. It's all good."
"So, I think... I think you don't know what you want. I think that what keeps happening is because you aren't putting out there what you want. And I think that's because you don't, at root, know what you want."
The words tumbled out really fast, and when he was done, he put his hands palms down on the table in front of him, and took a deep breath.
"There, I said it. I think you are a bit too aimless, and stuff is just happening to you, rather than you initiating it."
I pursed my lips.
"Well, I don't know about that, Jonathan. I was the one who asked Olivia to marry me, remember? I was the one who came up with the plan with the big screens at Wrigley Field. I was the one to walk away from my job and start the games thing. I was the one to get involved with John Derbas and helped get him elected. I think I've had a lot of agency in my life?" I protested, mildly.
I didn't think I was aimless. Not at all. How could he be seeing this?
"It's more in terms of relationships I mean, Ryan. Not in other areas. I mean, when you asked Olivia to marry you, did you really want that with her, or were you doing it because it was the next logical step? I mean, she had barely even moved in with you when you did it. And even then, not fully."
I could tell that Jonathan was doing his best not to be confrontational in his delivery, but some of this was quite in-your-face. I didn't honestly know how to answer that without sounding like a prick. He took a big gulp of his drink, whatever it was, to cover his nervousness.
"I'm not sure how it's your business, Jonathan."
"Yeah, it's not. But... my point is, she wasn't ready, for whatever reason. But you were? That's quite a disconnect. How did that happen?" he persisted.
"I dunno, Jonathan. I'm not sure I agree with any of this. I think I have plenty of agency. I think I know what I want. I want a woman who'll actually be true to me, and not bring danger to my door, or lie to me. Is that so hard? Sure, I've been slow off the block looking, and searching her out wasn't even on my radar for the longest time, but I did get off the starting blocks and did start looking."
"For what, though?"
I was confused by the question. "What do you mean?"
"Let me ask it another way, Ryan. What kind of woman are you looking for? What attributes should she have? Do you like blonds, brunettes? Does she have to be a gym goer? Does she have to be well-read, into action movies, loves comedies, wear tight outfits? What? What is it that you actually
want
?"
I was a little affronted at that. Like am I that shallow? I didn't think I was. I needed to put him right, if he thought that.
