From the start of my trip back to Texas, there were two old flames that I intended to meet up with: Anna and Audrey. Together they comprise of two of the three romantic-type figures from my past that have had the deepest and most profound effect on me. I had to see Anna because she threatened to beat the living tar out of me if I didn't (and, of course, I wanted to see her anyway). As for Audrey, the way we parted last time was difficult and so filled with conflicting emotion that I felt I needed to see her when we were both finally on an even footing (and, of course, I wanted to see her anyway). Plans were made on Saturday with Audrey and Sunday for Anna.

But on Friday night it so happened that I ran into a third. When Scarlet Hicks sat at the table next to Ed and I at the Firehouse on Friday night, it not a particularly welcome event. Though really, once I did in fact ascertain that it was her (different hair, more weight), other than the occasional glance I didn't give it a much thought. Part of me felt like I should say something or at least acknowledge her presence. I would for anyone else, but... no. I was there to talk to Ed and watch Jason Boland play.

I saw her glance over enough times that I knew she knew who I was. She had a "come and talk to me" look in her eyes, but luckily Ed provided a good shield so that I could ignore her without being too too rude. But eventually my trips to the bar caught up with me. She was right at a bend in the crowd and I would have to make sufficient eye-contact with her as to acknowledge her presence... or bulldoze through the crowd for another route... or so obviously avoid eye contact as to be an idiot avoiding contact with someone standing directly in front of them.

So ahead I plunged. As I passed she opened her mouth and stepped a bit into the clearence. I nodded and side-stepped past her. Others have hurt me more and in the aggregate others have probably lied more to me, but once upon a time she took the cake in having done the most mind-bogglingly thorough job of of making a fool out of me.

If I'd thought about it (and were I more a prick) I would have asked for my Bleu Edmondson CDs back.

The next night the plan was to meet Audrey Elciem some time around 5:00. I called her work phone Friday afternoon to confirm plans, but the voice on the other side said that Audrey had called in sick. Audrey can have pretty fierce migraines and if she was struck, it was unlikely that I would get to see her. The prospect left me with a feeling of collosal disappointment. In some ways, of all the people I saw down there, she was going to be the most important. Not the one I was looking forward to, but the most important. We had unfinished business. Not words unsaid or feelings unexplored, but I guess a sort of equilibrium that kept evading us.

That she wasn't calling me back wasn't surprising. If she was having a rally migraine, she could literally spend the whole weekend asleep trying to recover. And unlike in times past, I wasn't angry with her. While part of me was saying "Surely she can muster the energy to call and cancel" most of me was saying "that's no so sure, pardner." And since I knew that she really did want to see me, I didn't take it personally or defensively. When she called at 3:15 or so and said that she was going to try to get a couple more hours sleep, I felt even better about it all.

Even so, as 5 and 6 and 7 passed, it nonetheless put me in a very uncomfortable, very familiar position. All of those nights in 2001 spent waiting to hear from her. Nights I'd pushed out of my mind, for the most part, started to tug at my serenity. I guess just like that song that still makes you think of someone long gone, the prospect of waiting to hear from anyone - much less Audrey herself - makes me think of a time in our mutual lives that we both wish we could change.

But I bided my time, visiting places that I didn't think I would get make time to: Deidrich's Coffee, my Briarwood Apartment, Cactus Records, and Planet Anime. When I made my way to the UH campus, she called. She was obviously feeling a lot better and we made the plans in double-quick time to meet at 8:00.

Seeing her again was great. Talking to her again was great. I'm not sure what I wanted from the conversation. I'm not a big believer in closure, so that wasn't entirely it. But I guess I was hoping that she would open her mouth and God's own voice would say "It's okay, Alex. What's past has passed and everyone moves on."

And in a sense I got that. Neither she nor God uttered those particular words, but I realized what I'd sort of known all along: she's been saying that for the past few months. Her new relationship, her apartment, the longer and longer time lapsed between emails. She's moved on and she's happy now and while I did the same, I can start feeling better about it.

And Sunday I saw Anna McLoed for what was a comparatively undramatic meeting. It was a welcome relief. She and I made enough peace with each other long enough ago that there's nothing for even me to be neurotic about. She's lost weight, she bought a house, and she's building a life for herself for once. She may not have what she wants most in this world, but she's doing what she needs to for the next time around.