The Saga of Chris has come to its swift and clear conclusion. I started going out with him in the first place because I was fascinated by him and he made my stomach flip over, and I didn’t want to be left wondering, “What if?” Now I’ll never have to wonder. He turned out to be more crazy than not, and more trouble than he was worth, but to his credit, at least he added one more great New York moment to my list, and inspired a few poems.
Yesterday I called Chris. He informed me that the love of his life, the semi-suicidal and violent Carrie who dumped him while in anorexia rehab, e-mailed him to say she loved him and missed him. He said getting the e-mail made him want to throw up, and he was still shaking. Hmm.
That night, I went for drinks with Chris, Lindsey and Lindsey’s roommate, Victoria. We all had a lot of fun talking. Then they went home, and Crazy Chris appeared. Well, not at first. At first he was playing pool, and activity which (he had told me before) let him forget her for stretches of time. But then it was someone else’s turn at the table. He started saying rude things to me.
“Why are you actively trying to alienate me? What am I doing here with you?” I asked.
“What are you doing here? Honestly?”
“I’ve been having fun with you. But you told me once you didn’t need any new friends.”
“I want us to be friends.”
“Fine. Then stop trying to offend me.”
But in the course of the conversation, he (in crude terms) informed me that he was just using Nicole, a nice girl he’s seeing, for sex. Then he told me, “You need to grow up. You think you have a handle on everything, but you don’t. You have a perfect answer for everything.”
“Okay then.”
“See? ‘Okay then.’ All you have to say is, ‘Okay then.’” I think he wanted me to get all dramatic and fight with him. Well, you all know I'm up for a good fight when it matters, but you don't fight someone that...pitiful.
He went on to tell me that he still loved Carrie, and that he would die for her in the end. He said he would kill himself for her, not that night, but someday. I tried to talk to him about options for getting help. He said if his sister couldn’t help him, I sure as hell couldn’t, and what was I going to do, call the cops? He said I should leave him, and I did.
So, I never have to wonder, “What if I’d given it a shot with Chris?” Now I know the answer: disaster. I feel bad that he’s so damaged— that he’s making these desperate pleas for help, and no one knows how to help him. But I guess I’m grateful that he didn’t use me and string me along like he did to Nicole. One intense week, and the whole thing was resolved without me getting too physically or emotionally involved. Goodbye, beautiful, crazy Chris, and good luck. I hope you get the help you need. Actually, you and beautiful, crazy Carrie will probably get married and have a passel of beautiful, crazy children and live in a prolonged fit of drama and masochistic joy. Mazel tov!
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