Mr. A

I honestly haven't got anything terrible to say about Mr. A. There is a reason I adored him for so many months. There is seemingly no reason for the sudden repulsion.

I believe I was first introduced to Mr. A at the Alaskan bar but was too enamored with Mr. EJ to pay him much more than a sweeping glance and a stilted hello.

We met again, a more memorable occasion for me, at a wine and cheese tasting at a mutual friend's apartment. A friend of mine, or an acquaintance really, kept harassing me about this Mr. A - convinced that he could not only protect me from assholes, he could also find me the right guy. We did eventually fall into conversation, maintaining close proximity and enjoying one another's company all night. When we parted ways I gave him my number.

He called approximately 1.5 days later. I declined the invitation to hang out due to its late start-time, as late start-times usually lead to less wholesome activities.

Eventually we did see each other again. And again. And again. Off and on, hot and cold from sometime in late January or early February until the beginning of August.

Mr. A attracted my attention when he had, at minimum, a 5 O'clock shadow and scholarly glasses. He was witty and intelligent and said things outside my knowledge base. He said everything with confidence yet seemed empathetic.

He seemed to live frugally in a spacious apartment. Books of all genres on all subjects replaced a headboard. A mattress on the floor. A couch with cushions which never wanted to stay on the couch. The apartment, its contents, the owner's tastes: eclectic.

He worked to make money, worked so that in his free time he could do that for which he really had passion. It wasn't anything selfish, either. His passion took the form of an environmental cause. It took the form of a non-profit of which he was co-founder. It took the form of laborious research and grant writing. Of trying to sell an idea. Of making something happen. This was his passion, this is his passion. More than anything else, it seems, this takes precedence.

Rarely seen out at the bars, he even goes so far as to make his own beer and will attempt to bake his own bread if he has not already done so.

I have heard him utter tender words and I have heard him pass judgment ignorantly. I have seen him vulnerable and I have seen him with a defense that could repel even someone who could have loved him, had there been a chance.