June 16, 2005

• 

  
  

  Nantucket Diary (The following “diary” is available in the Lovesearch section of AllThingsMike.
  A Harrowing adventure.
  Complete with storm scares, choppy seas, and a girl on island who brushed me off after three days.
  A tale of a $3200.00 vacation, which, while satisfying, was filled with tempest tossed nights and broken hearts (mine).
  This is a cautionary tale about connections via the internet, and the old sailor’s warning, “Here there be dragons.”
  I wrote (in longhand) a day-by-almost-day diary, and will include that here, along with my present day comments (in red) and the requisite links.
  I know many people post web-based diaries, and this is my first, keyed to my vacation website, and to the lure of romantic adventure, and how our compass needles sway way off course sometimes in the search for love.
  Heave ho, and away we go!
  M.F.Nyiri copyright 1999

  
  

  

  
  

  (Editor’s Note 2005. The bulk of the diary was written in longhand in 1999 while it was happening. The notations in red were written in 2000 when I put the diary on my website. MFN)

  
  

  I didn’t begin the actual diary until the night after I met Maria. Our webromance had started three months earlier, after the first personal ad I placed for my “lovesearch” was answered by Maria scant hours after I had placed it. After corresponding with  180 e-mails, and phone calls nearly every weekend. I made a decision to travel the three thousand miles, charge many fees to my already overloaded credit cards, and take off from my job at a particularly busy time of year, all to supposedly stoke the fires of love, and find out if in fact my other half existed on the island of Nantucket. The diary as I wrote it will be in black, and my present day comments will be in red.

  
  

  WED SEPT 15 1999
  8:30 PM

  
  

  The first thought tonight, as I see on the news that the Cape Cod area is about to undergo “heavy rains” through Friday, is, why didn’t I bring a damn umbrella?
  I knew it was going to rain here, everyone was talking about  “Hurricane Floyd” when I left on Monday. I thought I heard raindrops last night.
  Tonight, I left the inn at about 7:30 pm and it is raining for sure. The rain so far is very sporadic, and light. Looking out the window, you can’t even tell it’s raining.

  
  

  
  (On Tuesday night, after spending most of the day sleeping away jet lag, I met Maria, and spoke to her for about two hours. When we parted, we both acknowledged that our meeting each other was pretty strange.)

  
  

  
  Floyd is pounding Florida, and is threatening to come up all the way to Masssachusetts. Well, I’ll see if I can get some good “storm footage”.
  This island is fantastic, so far. This morning I mapped out the area I wanted to videotape, but purposefully didn’t take the camera.
  I wanted to shoot tomorrow morning. Well, time will tell. Wish I had brought my umbrella.Or at least a coat with a hood. It’s not cold, by the way. The room is airy. All the windows are open. I slept with them open last night. I’m wearing a tee shirt, and even when out walking tonight, it was warm, about 75 to 80 degrees.

  
  

  
  (All sorts of thoughts pounded my brain. I was going to shoot my videodocumentary. I was going to maybe be in the midst of a hurricane. And I was going to fall in love.)

  
  

  I only videotaped a few “test frames” outside the inn last night and it was too late with the light fading, so I came in. This morning , before the humididty and the tourists hit , it was beautiful on the island. Well, I have two weeks. There will be good weather to tape in. I should have given some thoughts about Maria, but the storm is on my mind right now. (Also the fact that my hand  hurts. I’m not used to hand writing anymore, only typing on a computer keyboard.)  I am upset, right now, as I write. It’s going to rain, I don’t have an umbrella, they didn’t sell them in the A&P (only place I saw some this afternoon was at the museum shop, and they were $35.00 each.)
  I do want to talk about Maria, because my phone rang earlier, and even though she told me she would be washing clothes this evening, and wouldn’t be able to see me, there isn’t anybody else who should be calling, and I can’t seem to get the damn phone to work. I answer, and there’s a sporadic dialtone. The first time Maria called me here, I had to push the outside line button, and did so tonight, but only a dial tone. Star 69 yielded repeated rings (probably a pay phone) but no response. And I know I didn’t Star 69 till it was too late. I figure Maria went to the lecture because the call was timed right at 7:00 p.m. So I left the inn, tried to find an umbrella for sale, no luck there, bought a sixpack of Rolling Rock (there, I’m pissed off so I buy alcohol.) I just didn’t want to go to a pub. (For $5.00 I get six to drink in my room)

  
  

  
  (At first I was very proud that I wasn’t giving in to my urge to drink, but found solace in the six pack as news of the hurricane raced up the coast, and I couldn’t seem to hook up with the object of my desire.)

  
  

  
  The movie house was open. $8.00 for “The Sixth Sense”, which of course has been #1 for about a month now. Well, Hurricane Floyd is on TV. Might as well see some “footage”. Ha Ha.
  The news is that Florida has been spared. Charlotte, N.C. is a ghost town, because they think it will hit there. But here it is 9:00 p.m. and nobody knows.
  Here in Nantucket, one shop had a sign saying: “Closed . Happy Storm.”
  The “news special ” on TLC is now, after five minutes of “footage” rerunning stock footage of Camille in ’69. Maybe we have nothing to worry about.
  Still, it’s September. I left fire season in SoCal for Storm season in the east.
  Forgot to mention, when I got back to my room there was a “message” light on my phone, but again I couldn’t get anything to work. The prerecorded message kept saying “the occupant in room 118 doesn’t answer.” Well, that’s me. I am really thrilled to have had the chance to meet Maria. So far, I am very hesitant to express any “feelings” to her. But I have had one long talk last night, and ate lunch with her this afternoon. I feel like she’s an old friend. I love her eyes. She has wisdom, I know it. And I want to make love to her, even though she is, as she says, “wide in the beam.” But she is definitely attractive, and very personable.

  
  

  (I don’t think at the time I really felt Maria possessed any “wisdom”. I was just feeding my need to justify the experience of flying 3000 miles to visit her, and not really being blown away in her presence.)

  
  

  9:20 PM

  
  

  Dear Diary: I look outside (the tv is still showing old hurricane footage, this time of Mitch.) and the flags (which were whipping about furiously in the wind two hours ago) are still. It doesn’t look like it’s even raining. But I’m not going outside to check. I think now, that even though I haven’t really been watching the media, th has bent my perception of reality by default. I still wish I had an umbrella. but now I’m thinking maybe this “squall” will pass. And maybe this “Floyd” will not , as the media seems to want it to be, be The Storm of The Century. Now more news- from Wilmington, N.C. where it doesn’t even look windy. Now back to more “footage.” Of course at 9 pm the program is on TLC not a “real” news program.
  Back to thoughts of Maria. I’m going to call her tomorrow. And go to lunch again. He**, I’ll even pay her cab fare.

  
  

  
  (I call myself a “news junkie” but spent the first day of vacation sleeping, then visiting with Maria, so didn’t get to view tv news till Wed. night, and could only get it from The Learning Channel, which was merely an excuse for it to rerun old segments from natural disaster shows.)

  
  

  
  I really miss her. She seems wise, did I say that. I don’t know exactly what I mean by that , either. I feel only that she hasn’t been able to utilize her talents or creativity in her present life, and I would love to give her the opportunity to do so.
  But I want to stay in SoCal, and she’s let me know she doesn’t want to move there, so it puts my brain in a “neutral, let’s see what happens” mode.

  
  

  
  WED SEPT 15 1999 9:40 PM

  
  

  
  Tears are welling up in my eyes. Maybe it;s the beer (No. 3. I’m working on). But I think not. I’m now not thinking about storms at all. I know what started me thinking about them today. At the Coffin School museum, a Nantucketer serving as docent, a woman in her sixties, was staring out the window as I entered the museum. She was so intrigued at staring out the window, that she didn’t notice me at first. When she did, she mentioned the weather, which this afternoon was perfect. There wasn’t any humidity to speak of, and I was walking around in shirtsleeves. She mentioned that the weather was “strange” sort of like the “calm before the storm.” The “news” now just said we’ll see the Floydster on Friday. I just hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow.

  
  

  (I kinda like the imagery of “storms” and “tears”.)

  
  

  
  This is interesting. I’m writing my thoughts, which seem to carom between Floyd and Maria. I think I can definitely say I am, I don’t want to say “falling in love with”, because it seems so strange to both of us, but I can definitely say I want to give it a chance. That’s honest. Maria likes honesty and so do I.
  I think she wants to fall in love, no, I can’t assume to say what she wants.
  From outward appearances, I truly don’t believe Maria has ever had  what she wants. I do know I would like to give her that, but she is still consumed with wanderlust, and I’m at a point where I want to “settle down”.
  I don’t know why I seem to think I need everything to “fall into place” right away, either.

  
  

  
  (Not only didn’t everything “fall into place” everything fell apart real quickly.)

  
  

  But who knows, eh, diary? (This has been nine pages, so I am thinking a lot. I don’t know if I’m making sense, because unlike the computer, I am not editing, merely writing.
  Tomorrow I will call  Maria, and after lunch or whatever, I want to look deeply into her eyes. I want to see what I expect to see. I haven’t done this yet. I would like to invite her into my life. But maybe I’m rushing things. I have got to stop writing now. I am getting loose and am writing without thinking. Maria, there is time. We will make time.

  
  

  (I have transcribed everything as written, the only editing is here in red.)

  
  

  MON SEPT 20 1999 9:10 AM

  
  

  
  I’ve put off writing for a few days, but it has been nearly a week on the island, and I really wanted to get my thoughts about Maria down on paper, especially since she has either written me off, or can’t get in touch for some reason or another. Thursday was “Hurricane Night”. Maria took the day off, and showed up at my room at about noon. She didn’t call first, and I worried but she showed up looking beautiful in a light green blouse and long dark skirt. She and I took the bus to Siasconset on the east end of the island, and I proposed that if we were to get together, then I would try to make a place for her and her children in California. The worst fear I had up till thenwas that I felt she didn’t want to go out to California, and that would put an end to any budding relationship right there.
  It’s been three whole days since then, and since I haven’t heard from her, I feel that might still be the case, but I am getting ahead of myself.
  The winds were very strong Thursday, and word was that if the hurricane hit, it would be between 7pm and 4am Friday morning. Maria apologized for not being very personable that afternoon, but I wasn’t looking for a “host” at that point; like the good samaratin I always want to think I am; I wanted to “save” her, just like I wanted to “save” Pat. I still felt conflicted, because I hadn’t, and still haven’t, although it might be a moot point now, made love with her.
  Here I was, pledging to build her a home (and inviting  into my life another ready made family) without even knowing if I were in love!

  
  

  
  (I truly do not know why I am always finding souls to “save”. Someday I will find my soulmate, someone who is sure of herself and knows what she wants.)

  
  

  She is beautiful, but she is very overweight. I can’t even be nice about this. I am attracted to “her”, but not physically. At first I didn’t really “look” at her until Thursday, because I think she was “disguising” her weight, but later on, when she was wearing jeans, I realized just how “big” she was. This is not a turn-on to me, and maybe she sensed it, I don’t know. So, anyway, we came back to my room, and the opportunity presented itself that I could meet both her son (she had to pick him up at a daycare center) and her daughter. Not only did I meet the children, but they stayed with me on “Hurricane Night”.
   Needless to say, we just got buffeted by winds, and the storm went on to flood New Jersey and  parts of New York state.

  
  

  (It is a testament to my will that even though I knew through the whole time that it wouldn’t work out, I gave every moment a chance.)

  
  

  
  Friday morning, the kids showered at my room, and went off to school. Maria dressed in her uniform for her job, but still opted not to go to work.  While staying with me, the kids slept in a fold out couch bed in the room, and Maria shared the queen bed with me. I laughed to myself that I “slept” with her before we even kissed. Late in the evening (I had a bad night and could hardly sleep) I did work up the nerve to cuddle up to her. Again I was astounded by how big she was. Still, I want to make love to her, and see if I can be attracted by her passion, which she has written me about.
  Nothing got to happen that morning, however, as she got a call from work before she was able to call in. (She never called in the day before, either, which I questioned, but she doesn’t seem to think it’s too important.) Her boss said she had better show up or else she’s fired.

  
  

  
  (When I found out she hadn’t even called in sick, I  knew something was weird concerning her priorities.)

  
  

  
  Maria changed to her regular clothes from her uniform, and told me she needed to talk to her husband about a place to stay. For the few days I had been on-island, she was rooming with him and her kids on his boat, which is only 29 feet long. I know it was crowded in my 17ft by 10ft room with the four of us, so I know it must be hell on a boat. Maria had been looking for places to stay for a while with no luck. And just by spending a few days here, I know you need to be rich to stay on this island.
  I volunteered to carry some things back to her place, but she said it would be better if I didn’t.

  
  

  
  (t’s funny to think that I hardly think about her now.)

  
  

  
  My last memory of her is of her walking away, presumably, now that I think about it, out of my life forever.
  I came to Nantucket to visit Maria. I at least thought I’d get to spend the weekend with her. She told me Friday morning that she would call. I told her I’d be sure to be “home” after six pm.
  At nearly 11pm I was awakened by what I thought was the phone, but there was no one on. I can’t even be sure I heard it ring. If it did, that was the last time.
  Saturday and Sunday were beautiful. I didn’t let this “romantic setback” ruin my first weekend on the island. Saturday morning I rented a scooter, and took off for Madaket beach, and rode around the western part of the island. In the evening I got some ice and some beer and watched P.T. Barnum on the television. Still no calls. Since I don’t know how to get in touch, and since Maria does, I thought best to let her contact me. Before I went back to my room on Sat. night, I did walk out on the pier, and thought I saw Maria on one of the boats. She didn’t see me. I thought I saw her in town later, but it wasn’t her. Since I am looking for her, and think about her, and miss her terribly, the
  problem I have with her weight might even have gone away, or better yet, I might make her feel good about herself so that she would lose some, but again, she didn’t contact me.
  On Sunday morning, I stayed in my room a bit, waiting for a phone call that never came (hmmmm, sounds like a poem to me) then went out to the garden, read a bit, took a tour bus around the island, and shot some video in ‘Sconset, where I and Maria had been on Thursday (although it was stormy on Thursday and beautiful on Sunday.) I have completely forgotten the stress at work at this point, and am really glad to be here. I made a pact with myself to “just forget” about what this is costing me, and I am eating good and having fun.
  The dream, of course, was to share this bounty with Maria. The reality is strangely different.
   ate a wonderful meal at Vincent’s italian restaurant. Calamari al Diablo with a bowl of the best clam chowder I’ve had yet. The waiter mentioned that the entree was “hot”. (I kinda figured since it was named al Diablo, or of the Devil, that it would be like a cajun dish.) There was nobody sitting across from me. I am alone, but I guess I’m used to it by now.
  (Damn, I’m crying again.)

  
  

  
  (The “crying” ended rather abruptly. I  knew this wasn’t right. Now, I am certain, as it seems love has finally found me in New Mexico.)

  
  

  
  I can’t help it that I’m a romantic fool, watching the world pass me by. But I am having a great time, this little glitch with Maria notwithstanding.
  I thought I got along well with her children, although her daughter seemed to dislike the proposition of her mother spending time with another guy (me). Her son seemed very well able to roll with the punches as it were. I get the feeling, at seven, that his life is a series of changes in scenery, and I was just another change. I heard him ask Maria, “where will I sleep tomorrow night?” That choked me up. The poor boy needs a home, dammit.
  I guess I don’t blame Maria, if, for some reason, she hasn’t written me off. I tried to impress upon her that I was a gentleman. I won’t chase after her. I think maybe she probably shouldn’t have answered my ad in the first place.
  I want my other half. I had tricked myself in believing that Maria fit this requirement, but I don’t think it is true.

  
  

  
  (She never met the requirement, which has been met as of November 1999, I do believe.)

  
  

  
  This morning, I shot some beautiful sunrise shots of the Brandt Point lighthouse, and got some “magic time” shots on the pier, or wharf, as they call it here. Since I know Maria and her husband have a “home” on the wharf, such as it is, I didn’t want to hang around and force any sort of confrontation, so moved up to the center of Main Street to do a 360degree pan of the town with my tripod.
  As I was “breaking down”, I saw Maria’s son and daughter walking down the street to catch the schoolbus. I know they saw me. I acted like I didn’t see them, to see if there would be an acknowlegement of my presence.
  There wasn’t.
  It is now 10 am, and there have been no calls (I called Maria at 10am the first day, and I believe in precedents.) At this point I believe she has gotten back with her husband. I believe she doesn’t want to contact me.
  Since I believe so strongly in fate, I even called her job because she answered the phone the first two times I called last week.
  She didn’t answer. Does this mean she quit? Was she fired? Will she ever call me? Just to let me know what to think?
  I don’t know.
  Diary,  I was smitten with a soul on the island of Nantucket. I travelled 3000 miles to be with her. At one point, I had her by my side, with her progeny close by.
  Then she disappeared.
  Her children fail to recognize me.
  She doesn’t call.

  
  

  I am not mad. I don’t know if I’m relieved. I do know I care for her, and for her welfare. Maria is a beautiful soul, stuck in a life and a body which are not so beautiful.
  I hope she finds her escape, or her doorway back into her relationship.
  I am so open that I would and will welcome her into my life, even with my doubts.
  Life is continually surprising me. It’s another beautiful day on my vacation in Nantucket. What else can I say, right now?

  
  

  
  (Yes, I am very relieved. I was telling people after I got back that I felt as if I had escaped death.)

  
  

  MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 20th  4pm

  
  

  Dear Diary,
  Folger, Macy,Johnson,Stienbeck,Benchley,Onassis,Gates. These are a few of the names. People who settled here or who built elaborate 8 & 9 million dollar “cottages” for summer use. Or who dock their ridiculously expensive yachts in the harbor.
  On a guided tour yesterday, I learned that in addition to the history with which the town is steeped, this  of course is a vacation paradise for the very rich. No wonder Maria complained about the snooty nosed summer islanders so much when we first started corresponding. If ever I make a killing on the internet, I’ll make sure I buy on of these ostentatious “cottages.”
  The video I have taken so far takes up over three hours, so tomorrow, if it rains, as has been the talk, I’ll catalog the shots I want, and outline the “Nantucket Holiday” Mikevideo.
  Looks like Maria is a dead issue. I am positive the glimpse of her on the boat the other day was her. I am sure I saw her and her husband today, in what looked like a midafternoon time together. She sat on the pier, and he was on the boat. It has a blue hull, no sail nor mast, and he has a red beard. I think his answer to her problems was to give me the cold shoulder and give in to him.
  Hopefully, they are back together. I told her that was best for the kids, anyway. If this is the case, I sure hope she calls to tell me so at least. I think I deserve at least that much respect, don’t ya think?

  
  

  (I fully concur that Maria is a dead issue. )

  
  

  
  Am I jealous? You betcha!
  Will I pursue her? Probably not. I did call her job and was told she “doesn’t work there anymore.” Since she looked so “at home” on the boat today, I can only assume she and her husband have an understanding.Sure wish I could hear some sort of explanation from her, though I’ve been snubbed in the past. I can take it. Maybe this isn’t the scenario. Maybe she wants to call, and can’t. (That sounds pretty stupid, however.)
  This being Monday, maybe the first Ally McBeal of the season is on, although I think I have to wait till 10pm to see. I’ve got some beer on ice, and will check out the TV as soon as I finish writing and read some more of Carl Hiasson’s Lucky You. I’m convinced he writes the perfect vacation novels. I even plan to read Striptease sometime in the future.
  Without Maria, and I’m positive that’s what it’s going to be, I’ll spend the remainder of the week reading and editing my footage. Work is a dim memory. I tried calling this morning at a time when Jinny is the only one in, and no one answered. I hope she’s alright. I’ll call tomorrow.

  
  

  Maria.
  The call the wind Maria.
  Although it’s pronounced differently.
  She was like a wind.
  Sweeping into my life.
  Then blowing away
  Without a word.
  A bit absurd.
  I hope she’s happy.

  
  

  TUESDAY SEPTEMBER 21 1999     4:45PM

  
  

  Note to myself. If I am ever so full of myself that I give the brushoff to anyone, just give me the good grace to let them know.
  There is nothing worse than someone just “disappearing”.
  One cannot fathom the reasons, the rights, or the wrongs. Especially if one knows the other resides a scant three or four blocks away.
  The second note to myself.
  Don’t follow your heart.
  “Caught in the World Wide Web”. Book title.

  
  

  
  (Since, as I write this addendum, I am in fact following my heart again, I rarely take my own advice. Just don’t follow it 3000 miles without an emotional cushion. I think I am formulating my cushion, and I am ready for love again.)

  
  

  
  FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 25, 1999  7:00 A.M.

  
  

  I saw Maria on Wednesday morning.
  After walking down to the wharf with my morning coffee, I saw her depart the boat she lives on with her husband and mate. At first I hesitated, then walked down the pier.
  “So it’s the girl who never called,” I mused. “That would be me.” she said.
  “Why?” I questioned.
  She said, “I didn’t know what to say.”

  
  

  (When Maria said that she didn’t know what to say, I replied, “How about goodbye.”)

  
  

  
  Believe me, I don’t think I know what love is after all, even after years of writing poetry. I thought I was “over her”, but we did have a short walk and talk, and I couldn’t stop my tears. My eyes hurt terribly fot the rest of the day.
  She did “get back” with her husband, so I wasted the reasons for this trip. I did tell her that I wished she would never have answered my ad. I feel she still doesn’t know exactly what to do with her life, but I’m glad she chose her husband. They were, and should be, together, for her children’s sake. I certainly couldn’t offer her what I offered her, a home for her and her children, right now. I’m not that ready for another “instant family”. I could tell that just by having her kids stay over on Hurricane night.
  The truth is, I know she isn’t “in love” with me. She never acted that way. I gave her plenty of chances.
  I feel terribly that I didn’t make love to her, but in light of her situation, I’m glad I did not.
  I told her that I invested all of my energies on her since we began corresponding, and althou my “lovesearch” and ads are still on the internet, and I’ve dated one gal I met on the net,  and pledged eternal friendship to another, I didn’t “cheat” on Maria.
  I felt sad on Wednesday, but have not cried since, and I seem to have settled down.
  Nantucket is an island for lovers, and my dream, while not turning into a nightmare, just didn’t happen.
  I edited video yesterday, and think I will have a pretty good video document.
  I’m glad I din’t make mention of Maria. I won’t include the two shots of her.
  I told her I would “take down” the website I dedicated to her, but I think, rather, that I will use it to post my afterthought poetry to her.

  
  

  (The “video document” turned into my best work. I had a great vacation, after all, even with the storms of love fading on the horizon. It is interesting, in retrospect to even think that I felt I would write poetry about her again. I rarely think about the gal.)

  
  

  
  This has been the first time (and the last, I swear) that I will have gone 3000 miles on an impulse. (although backed up by countless e-mails.)
  Maria said she was sorry I spent so much time and money. I said that was nothing. I’m sorry I invested my heart.
  Needless to say, at forty-six, I still haven’t had my share of unrequited love affairs.
  I haven’t written the “Last Love Song” yet.

  
  

  Michael F. Nyiri
  Nantucket Diary.
  

  ---

  
  Editor’s Note: Maria and I keep in contact with each other. She has an on again off again relationship with her husband, and she even blogged on Xanga for a while. I often say I don’t burn too many bridges, and she has turned into a longtime correspondent and a good friend. She actually read this diary long ago, and understands why I felt the way I did after our “stormy” meeting. It’s hard to believe this happened almost six years ago. The other recipient of the lovesearch in 2000, Regina, and I had a three month relationship that didn’t work out either, but that, as they say, is another story.  MFN 6/16/05)
  
  

  
  

   

  • 8:29 am
  • 13 Comments