The Danger of Doppelgangers

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Fashion

By: Neely Steinberg

I was fascinated by Jonah from the very first moment I laid eyes on him. His entrance into the bar was like a stolen scene from a 1980s romantic-comedy: the classical music played as he walked through the door, all fell silent as a needle dragged across a record player, and a heavenly beam of light appeared only to fall directly onto his angelic face.

Alas, the perfect, John Hughes-esque movie ending (think Sixteen Candles’s Jake Ryan leaning across the table to seal his commitment to Samantha Baker with a kiss) that every woman secretly desires was not to be. When I realized that after a year and a half the only connection Jonah would ever be willing to make with me was a physical one, I knew I had to move on. I was heartbroken. For some reason, a reason that to this day I still don’t completely understand, I felt deeply for Jonah.

“For some reason, a reason that to this day I still don’t completely understand, I felt deeply for Jonah.”

A few months after we called things off (for the eighth and final time), I took a trip with some friends to Nantucket. While partying like a rock star in my Nantucket-required Ralph Lauren attire, I met Will from Boston. For a few short and debilitating moments, I thought it was Jonah. Aesthetically speaking, he was Jonah’s “doppelganger,” as in, his absolute double: same hair, same face, same smile, same clothing, and the same exact body type. After downing a few Pinot Grigios, I took myself and my liquid courage over to where he was standing and began chatting with him. I was like a little school girl in his presence, giggling uncontrollably as I fumbled with my hair. So, you can imagine my delight when he actually called me several days later to ask if I wanted to “hang out.”

I had butterflies in my stomach on the drive over to his place. Was this really happening? The anticipation of seeing him again was killing me. My knees trembled as I pressed the buzzer to his apartment. Will didn’t come down to get me, perhaps the first red flag of the night. No, he simply buzzed me up, the way one does with the electrician or the cable guy. And then the strangest thing happened. Upon entering his abode, I felt like I was in a Seinfeldian “bizarro world.” Everything was so oddly similar to Jonah’s place, even down to the political literature on the bookshelves. I was having a moment of extreme deja vu and frankly, this “already seen” moment was giving me a peculiar sort of pleasure.

Five minutes after my arrival, Will asked if I wanted to watch a movie in his room. The adult in me knew what was behind his suggestion, but the school girl in me didn’t want to believe it. Upon

“Will asked if I wanted to watch a movie in his room. The adult in me knew what was behind his suggestion, but the school girl in me didn’t want to believe it.”

lying down on his bed, Will asked if I wanted a massage. The adult in me knew where this was headed, but the school girl in me wanted to believe that he really cared about my sore muscles (I told him I play a lot of squash). Three minutes and one bad massage later, he was on top of me. Unfortunately, he just so happened to be a good kisser, and for a brief moment I thought I could go through with it. I closed my eyes and imagined it was Jonah. God, he even smelled like Jonah. I imagined him telling me that he loved me and that he wanted to be with me forever. But when I opened my eyes, the fantasy vanished. It wasn’t Jonah and instead of sweet nothings being whispered in my ear, Will was whispering just plain nothing.

A few minutes into our makeout session, the adult Neely finally took charge and put a stop to his antics. He wasn’t pleased nor was I. “We don’t even know each other,” I said to him as he sat at the foot of his bed with his back turned to me. His response: “I just thought it’d be fun to hook up.” Oh boy.

I had arrived at Will’s apartment at 8:30 pm and like Scarlet O’Hara was Gone With the Wind by 9:00 pm. And was so often the case when I was with Jonah, my excitement soon turned into a feeling of disappointment and emptiness. What was I doing at this stranger’s apartment on a Sunday night anyway? What were my motives?

Perhaps I thought I could somehow heal old wounds through this new person who reminded me so much of the man who, months earlier, had broken my heart. Was I intrigued by Will for the right reasons – to meet and get to know someone with whom I could share a meaningful connection – or was I just tempted by this newbie because he presented an opportunity for me to have a fragment of Jonah back in my life? No matter what my subconscious reasons were for pursuing Will, in the end, I realized that the wounds from my heartbreak with Jonah may never fully heal. There will always be a little piece of my heart that was cracked by him and that not even his doppelganger would be able to repair.

“Ultimately, Will and Jonah shared more than just a physical resemblance; they were both strangers to me.”

But as much as I blamed Will for his pathetic, Neanderthal behavior that night, the truth was that I was equally at fault; I was using this stranger as much as he was using me. I hardly knew Will but was so willing to temporarily believe that he was interested in more than just sex, the way I pretended with Jonah. The even harder pill to swallow was the fact that I hardly even knew Jonah. I had spent over a year being physically intimate with him, but we never really knew each other. Ultimately, Will and Jonah shared more than just a physical resemblance; they were both strangers to me. Sadly, I used one stranger as an attempt to feel closer to another stranger.

After much reflection about what had transpired at Will’s apartment, I realized that, if anything, time is on my side, and perhaps as I mature, I will learn to let go just enough of the old hurt to make room for new bliss. And maybe, just maybe, I will eventually let myself meet someone who will be decent and kind to me – someone who will love me emotionally, spiritually, intellectually, and yes, even physically.

A few days after my dangerous doppelganger date, I resolved to remain hopeful about the possibilities of love and the potential for real intimacy; after all, as Scarlet believed…tomorrow is another day.