Hitting the Wall, Part 0: How It All Started
   The first time I asked Tina out, she didnât think I was really asking her out.  She replied with an enthusiastic âyes!â having still been lonely all that time ago and thought itâd be great to go grab a drink with a new friend. I picked up on this confusion relatively quickly, having not been a complete and total loser, and clarified, âIâm asking you like on a date.â
   âOhâŚthen no,â she said plainly, as if it had been a stupid thing to ask. Â
   She proceeded to explain that it simply wasnât the right time. She still hadnât recovered from her last relationship with an androgynous Puerto Rican treated her like shit, using and abusing her for however long they had been together before ultimately leaving her for another girl he had been sleeping with on the side. The whole thing brought on a depression, which she battled daily, and which, as she explained, created a higher risk of a relapse when she wasnât in control of her emotions.  Dating or sex or feelings werenât anything that she could handle at the time, but I was assured that it had nothing to do with me, that she liked me, that I deserved to be with someone more stable, and that I was ânice.â
   God fucking damnit, I mightâve been able to accept the whole thing had she not added that last piece.  âYouâre a nice guy.â  It was just something that I also fucking hated.  The notion goes well beyond the ânice guys finish lastâ mantra and the pseudo-feminist response that âyouâre not entitled to our bodies just because youâre nice!â  The problem with it is that the word has no meaning or context. âNiceâ doesnât mean anything good so much as it means an absence of shittiness.  âNiceâ is a word thatâs used only to be vaguely positive when you have nothing else positive to say.  Itâs an empty compliment.
      At the time, I was still in school working on my degree and held a part time internship at a small local firm in the area. Weekends were precious then, back before I gave up on the professional, 9 to 5 life and started working at Loaded, but when Saturday rolled around, I found myself sitting home with no plans, listening to Carl and Katie rag on Steve about taking some new girl, Brittany, out for a record breaking fourth time before they set off on a night out on their own, leaving me home on the couch still texting Tina. Â
   Despite the initial awkwardness, Tina and I had continued to chat for the next few days.  She still wanted a friend, and I still wanted her, having become less concerned with the capacity of such.  I couldnât help but mention that tonight wouldâve been the night of our date, had she allowed me to take her out, to which she said she was already aware. Instead, she was also home alone, working on a new painting.  She never studied art, but she was immensely skilled and creative, always coming up with new, mind-bending, surrealist images.  This particular one was of an elephant dressed up in a tuxedo with a bowler and monocle.  She text me a picture of her progress, as she would come to do so often.  I was always so turned on by how talented she was and I think that even back then, she knew that.
   We continued to talk on the phone for what ended up being hours, until about 1am when I told her that I wanted to see her.  It didnât make sense for use to both be sitting home talking to each other when we could so easily just be hanging out together instead, I explained.  At first, she contested, going back to the same speech she had made days earlier, telling me she didnât know if it was such a good idea.  I reiterated, âI want to see you.  I understand what youâre saying, but that doesnât change the fact that I want to see you and I think you want to see me too.  Youâve never told me you donât want to see me.  Tell me you want to see me and I can be at your house to pick you up in twenty minutes.â
   âI canât go out anywhere now,â she started.  âIâm filthy and all covered in paint.â
   âThatâs not what I asked you.â  Waiting for her response was one of the single most tense moments of my life.  She sighed before answering.
   âYes, I want to see you.â
   âOk, then Iâll be there in twenty minutes.â
   I couldnât have been more pleased with myself in that moment, nor could I believe that it actually worked.  No games, no bullshit, no indecision, just straight forward honesty. I want to see you.  Mother fucker, thatâs how itâs done. Â
   Tina was sitting on her front porch smoking a cigarette when I came to pick her up.  She started to walk towards the car as I got out and joined her for a smoke instead. She asserted her concerns about her sloppy, paint-splattered appearance and said that she didnât know where we could go with her looking like that.  I told her we donât have to go anywhere; we could just take a drive instead.
   âYou just want to drive around?  The sunâs coming up soon!â
   âWell, then letâs go watch the sunrise.â  She smiled her confirmation.
   She got in the car, we hit the interstate, and we drove for hours down the coast.  We talked the whole time, I donât remember exactly what about, just that she said one thing, I said another, and before long it felt like the kind of thing that would last forever, the conversation, the companionship, the freedom of flying down the highway, leaving our past behind us, and racing towards a future that was as bright and promising as the rising sun itself. Â
   I parked the car, we took off our shoes, walked down onto the beach in the dark, and sat nestled close together in the sand.  We still hadnât addressed the issue of defining our relationship, so I was still nervous when I put my arm around her to pull her in closer, but she smiled and rested her head on my shoulder as we continued to smoke cigarettes and wait for the sun. Â
   We stayed put for awhile still after the sun was hung high in the morning sky before we mustered the will power to stop holding each other and head back to the car.  I dropped her off at her house between 7 and 8am.  She didnât get out of the car right away, rather she lingered for a minute before saying she had a lot of fun, that she was really glad that I had talked her into coming out with me, and that she was looking forward to seeing me again.
   I always affirmed that going to watch the sunrise that morning was our first date, but Tina has always disagreed. According to Tina, our first date was weeks later for dinner at some shitty restaurant,   as she had said no to dating at the time, we held each other on the beach and watched the sun rise as friends. Â
   To me, the great victory was in assuring her that we were right for each other, that we should be together, and that no matter what the issue was, I was there to support her.  I felt like I had earned her trust and that she knew I wasnât going to hurt her, that Iâd never leave her to be alone.  For awhile, those were promises I thought I could keep, but I couldnât, and Iâve forgiven myself for not keeping them.
