Update:   07/16/10

Sad news.  Just found out that Ethan is no longer with us.  Suicide.  Funeral services are here in AZ tomorrow. On my birthday.  Not like I had any big plans, anyway.

Ethan will always be one of the greatest loves of my life.  Maybe even the best, for all the reasons below.

I'll still wonder. Just in a different way now.

Always loved you, E. Wish I could've helped. 

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A few weeks ago, and again today, the universe decided to be its usual, cruel, unrelenting self and remind me of EW. Today sucks bad for me and while I wrote this a long time ago, I feel the need to publish it today. Coincidentally, the “Ethan” of the story below has the same damn initials as the infamous “EW.” Really?  Fuck.  Why? For my friends here, you know I don’t write much about my personal life when it comes to things that make me sad, but I need to do this today. I feel like I am back at square one.  I am really very sad right now, but as usual, I will try to get over it.  My life isn’t all fun and games, as much as I try to make it sound like it is.

I always can look back on this and smile. It makes me feel good, even though I “lost out.” Sorry if the title offended you, but this is what really happened…

It was the summer of 2004 and my birthday was fast approaching.  I had been officially divorced for about 7 months and my best friend Tara and I were always going out to clubs, restaurants and shopping together. We were inseparable and had a lot in common—both divorced, about the same age, no kids, and just looking to have fun. We decided that since our birthdays were only 1 week apart, we would treat ourselves and spend a “girls” birthday weekend at a local hotel near all the bars & nightclubs we went to frequently. 

 We envisioned lazy afternoons by the pool, room service, and just being waited on hand & foot. Tara had mentioned this plan to her boyfriend, who was also her boss, and very wealthy.  He offered to set us up in a suite at the Phoenician Resort in Scottsdale for the weekend (with his “frequent flier” points) AND supply us with his driving service.  We were thrilled! We arrived late Friday evening and had the most exquisite dinner at the hotel and decided to just stay in that night. 

Although we had extended an open invitation to several friends to join us throughout the weekend, it was rather last minute and most people already had plans. We didn’t care. We were going to eat, drink, relax, dance and we didn’t need a full-on entourage to do that.

We spent Saturday morning and afternoon at the pool, where the poolside staff brought us drinks and set a table for us to have lunch in the shade. Oh, it was pure bliss! After showering and getting all dressed up, we went for dinner at our favorite Polynesian place, Drift. From there, we had a drink at Tequila Grill, then the Crown Room and made our way to Martini Ranch.

We were having a good time dancing when my friend Ethan called to say he was on his way!  I was surprised, as it was close to 10pm and really didn’t expect to see him.  He said he was coming by to celebrate my birthday with me. 

A little background on Ethan: We worked in the same department at the Phone Company and we had been pretty good friends for about 4 months.  All the women at work adored him and I suspect several had crushes on him—I know I did. He took me to a Refreshments concert, several parties here & there, always with a bunch of his friends, invited me to a baseball game. There was something about Ethan that turned me on—he was very sexy to me with his air of self-confidence, boyish good looks and laid-back attitude. I just considered him a friend though, as I never thought he was interested in me as a girlfriend.  We were just buddies, I guess; he always made me laugh and smile and totally understood my sense of humor.  

Anyhow, Ethan showed up alone and seemed to like Tara—I guess I was a little jealous that they were dancing together, but I didn’t let it bother me. Tara’s type was older, “distinguished” men who had a lot of money, but that didn’t stop her from hitting on Ethan. He told me that while they were dancing, she asked him if he wanted to feel her boobs (Tara had a nice rack--all natural, double d’s).  I was so embarrassed by my friends’ behavior, but he laughed it off and said he declined because she wasn’t his type, which led me to ask what is his type?

He said:  “You.” 

Our first kiss was interrupted by Tara, who told us she was calling the driver and going back to the hotel because she was too drunk to stand up anymore.  She told Ethan that if he wanted to, he could stay overnight in our suite. I gave her a hug and told her we were going to stick around a bit longer and we’d see her later. 

Tara greeted us at the door with pillows and blankets for the sofa in the living room.  I was surprised she hadn’t passed out already, but she told us to have fun and she would see us in the morning, then she went to the bedroom and closed the door. 

 I turned the stereo on (not too loud as it was about 1am) and I showed Ethan around the suite.  After talking for a while, we started kissing again and stumbled our way to the sofa. Things were getting pretty hot & heavy—my blouse was on the floor, but I was still wearing a bra and the rest of my clothes; Ethan’s belt was undone but there were no body parts hanging out  ;-). Pretty innocent at this point...

That’s when we heard the bedroom door being slammed open (yeah, slammed “open”—go figure) and this was screamed at us: 

“What do you think this is—the FUCK PALACE?!?!?” 

Tara had awoken from her drunken slumber and she was pissed!  Ethan and I were giggling about this at first, I mean really, the Fuck Palace? 

 I still don’t know what caused her tirade--maybe because Ethan turned her down earlier? It was around 2am, she was being belligerent and kept yelling, “This isn’t the Fuck Palace!”  Then she said that Ethan could no longer stay overnight.

This was a huge problem on so many levels, but primarily since Ethan left his car at the club.  I told him to wait for me in the atrium by the elevators and we would figure this out.  No way was I going to subject him to my stupid friend being completely rude when we hadn’t done anything wrong. I quickly and angrily packed up my things, all the while Tara was following me around saying I didn’t have to leave.  I told her she was being an asshole and no way was I staying after what she just pulled.

I was still a bit buzzed and not sure where I was going to go, but I was shocked by her outburst.  Fuming, I dragged my suitcase down the hall and met Ethan.

He chuckled at me, told me everything is going to be okay and gave me a tight hug after I apologized to him.

We took the elevator to the underground parking lot in order to put my suitcase in my car.  We both agreed that neither of us should be driving just yet and of course, one thing lead to another...

It was late, and the parking garage was seemingly abandoned, except for a security patrol that drove by us in a golf cart at one point. Around 4am, we took a taxi to the club and drove to my place in Ethan’s car. The next afternoon, he drove me back to the hotel to collect my car.

I drove around for about a week after that with an ass-print (mine) and hand-prints (his) on the hood of my car. Couldn’t really make out the smudges on the trunk though.  Funny how dust and dirt cling heavier to areas touched by body parts.

The Fuck Palace became an inside joke to us (“That reminds me of the sofa at the Fuck Palace,”  “Should I make a reservation at the Fuck Palace?”), but Tara and I never really reconciled as friends.

Ethan and I remained lovers and friends until the following March, when the Phone Company closed our building. Ethan had accepted a transfer to Missouri, but I wasn’t ready to leave Arizona.  He didn’t ask me to go with him, and I didn’t ask him to stay.

We never talked about where our relationship was going, or got too heavy in vocalizing our feelings for each other. I think we were both afraid to ruin this good thing we had found together by complicating it with “love”.  

I’ll never forget all the morning-afters we spent laying around in bed for hours, whispering, laughing, being playful and silly, getting it on, again and again.

 Here’s a song that always takes me back to the place and time where I was high on Ethan:

He’s married now, to a woman who doesn’t appreciate him (according to a mutual friend that he is still in contact with) and he has children. Mutual friend told me just a few months ago that Ethan admitted he had very strong feelings for me back then and he still thinks about me now. I wonder what would have happened if either of us had the courage to take a risk and admit our true feelings. It may seem sad, but when I think about all the good times I had with Ethan, it always makes me smile.

 I think it’s because he never treated me badly, or said a harsh word to me. 

“And I wonder…

If everything could ever feel this real forever,
If anything could ever be this good again…”