Indian Summer in the city usually rolls around early September and lasts until the first rain of late October. For the most part the fog hibernates for those wonderful two months of sunshine and allows the people of San Francisco enjoy summer the way it was suppose to be spent. Those are the days where you can find people taking advantage of the crystal clear blue skies and ideal warm weather. The streets and parks are usually teeming with people soaking up the sun and catching every as much sun as they can before the fog rolls back in.
I was one of those people about to get out and enjoy my sunny Sunday with the rest of the city. It was early October and I was meeting my date, Jeremy, at the Castro Street Fair; I had met him through work, and it was an instant attraction right from the get go. A few days after we started conversing, he gave me his number and asked me out. It felt good because it reinforced the idea that I was still a qualified and eligible contestant in the perpetual gay dating game. I had gone from wading in the shallow end to an almost bona fide deep end swimmer, and I didn't need any swimmies to help me stay afloat...yet.
I hopped on the train and found Jeremy at the top of the subway stairs and made our way to a small hole in the wall for a bite to eat. I found him easy to talk to and approachable, but at one point our conversation took a detour right into a subject I wasn't yet comfortable talking about: I'll take Past Relationships for 500 please! Seriously, isn't there some kind of rule that you can't talk about your previous relationship on a first date? I tried to maneuver and dance my way around the conversation, but Jeremy was very candid and open about his, which surprised me. Turns out he was still living with his ex and was trying to find a place of his own. That sounded all too familiar and close to home. So why did I make it out to be such a big deal? I suddenly felt like a politician trying to feed him a red herring in hopes I wouldn't be caught.
After lunch, we headed back to the Street Fair and enjoyed the various booths of arts and crafts (not the Martha Steward kind), and we made our way through the crowds of people eating and drinking. There were a few places that were designated dancing areas, and at one point I stopped to watch a very entertaining improv performance by the radical faeries. All in all it was turning out to be a good day and I was glad I was out and about enjoying the beautiful weather. But sometimes all good things must come to an end.
From across the crowd of people, I caught a glimpse of a familiar face that was walking towards us. At first I convinced myself that it wasn't, but there was an undeniable feeling of dread with every step I took. And sure enough, there he was: my ex. And he wasn't alone. He was accompanied with his new and improved boyfriend. Out with the old, in with the new. I guess they didn't get the memo that I was going to be at the street fair as well. It seemed that this new beau in his life was as tangible and real as any other person in the crowd. I felt like my past was colliding with my present, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to stop it. Should I say hello, or do I pretend not to see them? They were only ten feet away, and my ex hadn't noticed me yet. And just as they began to pass us, I turned the other way. It felt as if a ghost had passed me by. I opted for the easy way out instead of confronting my past head on. Perhaps it wasn't the right time. I turned back to look at them.
"What is it?" Jeremy asked.
I paused. "That was my ex and his new boyfriend."
"Do you want to say hello?"
I paused and stared at them until they blended with the rest of the crowd. "No, it's fine." But it wasn't, and I pretended that it was. Way to go.
We walked around for a while after that but I wasn't up for staying much longer. I felt as if I was in my own world and no one could come in. Jeremy didn't say much either, and I knew it was in part because of the encounter with my ex. He only lived a block away, so I walked him back to his place and gave him a kiss goodnight. Funny thing that night, the fog crept up over the city just as I made my way back to the subway. It stayed there for the duration of the night and vanished the next day. As for me and Jeremy, we didn't see nor talk to each other again. It was an unspoken understanding that I probably wasn't ready. But that didn't stop me for trying again, and again, and again. I was never one for giving up so easily. I was determined put myself out there each and every day until the memories of the past stopped haunting me.
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