smarty-pants

in 6th grade, i was pulled aside by my english teacher who told me to ask fewer questions in class. he said i made the other kids feel dumb, and "just because i knew i was smarter than he was, i didn't have to prove it all the time." it had never entered my mind i might be smarter than my teacher, ffs, and what kind of burden is that to give to a 10-year old? when i began dating, my mother warned me to tone it down, because "guys don't like girls who are smarter than they are." i chalked it up to my mother being a child of the 50s, but many of my eventual experiences proved her right.

nonetheless, i never dimmed the bulb; pretense never was part of my arsenal.

freshman year of college i became enmeshed in a group of guys who were engineering majors. i began dating one of them who proved lightning quick and an excellent foil. one of his closest friends, whom we both thought brilliant, was often a third wheel, and the whole lot of us (usually me the only female) did the things college kids do: plenty of partying, clubbing, lots of sex and staying up till all hours solving the problems of the world. other girlfriends were held apart from the clique, but somehow i was allowed into the panic squad.

sophomore year, b/f decides to live on nantucket for the summer and heads to the island. 3rd-wheel confesses he's always loved me, b/f didn't deserve me, blah, blah. even then a pragmatic whore, i agreed to have an affair, but as soon as school was back in sesssion, we'd all resume our previous positions. poor thing agreed, even taking a backseat when b/f would visit. he was fascinating, inquisitive, adventurous and crazy about me. when i wasn't working, he wanted to spend every second with me. it remains one of the best summers of my life.

september rolls around, and he tearfully confesses he'd hoped to win me over. he breaks code, and confides things b/f did undercover while away, but i'm not moved. hell, i cheated on him all summer with his best friend!! who was i to judge? he mooned many months, writing, phoning, following me. looking back i'm shocked at my cavalier usage of him and my lack of remorse.

m.i.t. and stanford court him for graduate school. he tries again to make me see the light. b/f was heading off to d.c. we'd had many ups, downs and separations, and both were ready to be done with it. but i had no intention of going backwards. he accepts the west coast offer and i receive a truly sad letter that he only did it because he couldn't bear to be in the same city and not have me.

life goes on and we all stay in contact. b/f marries, but dies before he turns 30. the other occasionally comes east to visit family and makes stabs at seeing me. and to get me back. invariably when he turns up, i'm involved with someone. when i try to imagine myself with him, i just can't. he's too kind, too good. i'm used to being held at arm's length, and seem only to function emotionally when there's distance involved.

finally, he relents and marries. apparently, to a woman who looks very much like me. he drunk-dials more than once to tell me he will always love me. i feel sad for her and the secret in her husband's heart.

it's many many years before i again become involved with a man who seriously challenges my intellect.

well, who should call this morning? these days people are easily found, and of course he's been tracking me all along anyway. he's divorced. he's here. can he see me?

i absolutely cannot. and i absolutely cannot determine if this is the smart thing to do, or possibly the dumbest ever in my life.

could the cosmic cats of fate please find another ball of yarn with whom to play for awhile?