"I can never write the beauty of this sunset" I say as my knight in shining whatever drives me home from a day of up and down. I feel like a puppet, on strings, a yo-yo who never knows where she stands with him. Why can't I express the beauty of this sunset? It's because what makes it beautiful is the moment itself; both bittersweet and terribly appropriate for what I have come to realize.
I thought that if i could only get him to watch the fireworks with me, he'd remember how much he used to love me and finally be my boyfriend. But I understand now that he will never be my boyfriend. And it's not just that he declined to watch the fireworks ("I promised I'd go to a barbecue" being his reason). It's that I am finally unsure about how many times I can continue to let my heart break for him.
What a strange day it has been. We started off doing something I wanted to do spending the afternoon downtown, then we did some errands he had to do and then went for bubble tea. Whilst amongst slow moving traffic he commented on why when we are together he can never move forward. I joked that he was stagnate. He corrected me, we are stagnate. Whether he was joking or not I'm not sure, but it stung and still does despite my attempts to make light of it.
I tried to make light of so many things today, including his incessant need to pick on me in a teasing way. I feel like a balloon that has deflated. Realizing his fallacy he apologizes and hugs me in his endearing way but I find it hard to accept it as genuine. I feel exposed and I'm hurt because he knows exactly what he is doing, salting my wounds. I said, "What would you do if you couldn't pick on me?" He couldn't wrap his head around the concept. I clarified, "what if I wasn't in your life?" His reply, "I'd probably just pick on myself."
Still, in his house I'm eager to reconcile and quickly found myself in his arms, "sorry I missed your birthday," he says. And that's all.
In the back of his car my things are littered in a bag (and yet among them, no birthday gift). He passes it to me as we drive in silence. The taste of tears is in my throat. The sunset is beaming all around us gloriously. Earlier he alluded to going to see fireworks tomorrow, I know this is my opportunity to say something if I want it to happen. Instead I breezily slip out of his car and watch the day mercifully disappear.
Friday
Tuesday
On fluffery
At first when my knight-in-shining-whatever came back from his European adventure he seemed a bit different. Mostly because he quit using his incessantly irritating catch phrase "good to know." I wrote it off as a whim of worldliness. But now he's doing all kinds of things that are throwing off the balance of my universe.
On Friday he persuaded me to apply for my dream job because "you're wonderful" and "when you get an interview they'll love you." I wrote off this fluffery (in the same conversation he called me a "goddess") until Saturday. He did something he NEVER does, he called "just because I was thinking of you." I had to fight back the urge to say, "really?" and take the edge off with a sarcastic remark like, "well aren't you just so sweet?" Today when I run into him on my way to work he's as handsome as ever and full of his sweet empty compliments. I want to roll my eyes but I find it fruitless to do so when I'm already enveloped in a warm hug of his initiation.
I wish he'd say, "be mine" but instead I settle for "Let's get together, call me."
On Friday he persuaded me to apply for my dream job because "you're wonderful" and "when you get an interview they'll love you." I wrote off this fluffery (in the same conversation he called me a "goddess") until Saturday. He did something he NEVER does, he called "just because I was thinking of you." I had to fight back the urge to say, "really?" and take the edge off with a sarcastic remark like, "well aren't you just so sweet?" Today when I run into him on my way to work he's as handsome as ever and full of his sweet empty compliments. I want to roll my eyes but I find it fruitless to do so when I'm already enveloped in a warm hug of his initiation.
I wish he'd say, "be mine" but instead I settle for "Let's get together, call me."
Thursday
He came up short
Every year it happens. I have a birthday. Since I was a child the occasion had always been celebrated in the same grand-style: sunshine, swimming, friends, strawberries, cake, surprises and of course presents. And I love presents. Luckily I loved everything I got, well almost.
My IT guy surprised me that day. First, by showing up and staying at my entire birthday. Second, by presenting me with a little purple wrapped box. Imagine my surprise (and my facial expression) when I opened the box to find a pair of high waisted white Bermuda shorts.
One after another my girlfriends made their comments on the shorts and their transferrable meaning on our relationship:
Maria: Yikes! It's over. Two words: "Return Policy."
Carrie: I'm just not sure why the shorts! I mean it's so not you. He obviously doesn't know you.
Sandy: Maybe we could get some get some glitter gel and jazz them up a bit.
Marianne: I don't like this gift and I don't like him.
Diana: You're going to think about this gift for the rest of your life, it's going to be legendary.
Martha: Oh, that's not good.
...but my most optimistic friend, Anna pushed me into the washroom, "try them on," she coaxed, "you might be surprised."
I stepped out of the washroom dawning the shorts and frown. "I guess not," she said.
I think it's over between me and my IT guy and it's not the gift. I think overall, when it comes to being a leading man in my life, he just comes up short.
My IT guy surprised me that day. First, by showing up and staying at my entire birthday. Second, by presenting me with a little purple wrapped box. Imagine my surprise (and my facial expression) when I opened the box to find a pair of high waisted white Bermuda shorts.
One after another my girlfriends made their comments on the shorts and their transferrable meaning on our relationship:
Maria: Yikes! It's over. Two words: "Return Policy."
Carrie: I'm just not sure why the shorts! I mean it's so not you. He obviously doesn't know you.
Sandy: Maybe we could get some get some glitter gel and jazz them up a bit.
Marianne: I don't like this gift and I don't like him.
Diana: You're going to think about this gift for the rest of your life, it's going to be legendary.
Martha: Oh, that's not good.
...but my most optimistic friend, Anna pushed me into the washroom, "try them on," she coaxed, "you might be surprised."
I stepped out of the washroom dawning the shorts and frown. "I guess not," she said.
I think it's over between me and my IT guy and it's not the gift. I think overall, when it comes to being a leading man in my life, he just comes up short.
A kiss isn't a kiss without moisture
With my number one galavanting his handsome self in Spain, I decide it's time to step up my game with my number two (or as we all know him, my I.T. guy). But attempts at his possible seduction have been spoiled too many times. First by a boy's trip to the races for the weekend; Second with a near brush with appendicitis. And now here we are following a lovely date no closer to the initial goal I designed when I finally released my beloved to the other side of the Atlantic: "Jump him."
Weeks and a barrage, wait, make that an endless barrage of pointless text messages later we finally go out. Irritated, I am. At first that cute little beeping on my new cellphone that indicated the arrival of mail gave me glee. Now I dread the sound because I know I am expected to send another meaningless and trite response to the meaningless and ill-ly abbrev-ed message I received. (Also, let the record show that this date only truly happened because typing these messages impaired my driving and my patience to such an extent that I actually caved and called to iron out the details).
And the thing about his voice is, I love it. I really do. Once I called him and he told me "take your time, whenever your ready" in his reassuring tone I was ready and anticipating getting on with my plan ("jump him"). So he greets me with a hug, opens my door and does all the chivalrous things I had come to expect from him. And I can't say that anything about the night was really displeasing. We talked, we laughed, we look good together (I think) and I tried in my passive way to move forward without being well, forward.
Holding his hand, touching his leg, leaning in, sitting almost next to him. I even read his palm for Christ's sake! What more can one girl muster? Okay, in retrospect I could've maybe done more but to do so might not have been, well me.
All night I was dreading it, and when I finally ended up at the bottom of the steps of my front door I thought. This is it. Now or never. I tried to prolong the moment as long as I could. Bat those eyelashes, lean in for it, tell him I'm warmer in his arms. Yes, I did go there. And still those pecks on the lips!!!!! Am I that old fashioned to I think a kiss, a real kiss, requires moisture?
Well let the record be shown that it did not happen. My goal wasn't accomplished. I set out ambitiously and I've failed. I'm bored and I'm about to tap out. After all, my knight in shining whatever will be home in the blink of my mascara enhanced eyes.
Weeks and a barrage, wait, make that an endless barrage of pointless text messages later we finally go out. Irritated, I am. At first that cute little beeping on my new cellphone that indicated the arrival of mail gave me glee. Now I dread the sound because I know I am expected to send another meaningless and trite response to the meaningless and ill-ly abbrev-ed message I received. (Also, let the record show that this date only truly happened because typing these messages impaired my driving and my patience to such an extent that I actually caved and called to iron out the details).
And the thing about his voice is, I love it. I really do. Once I called him and he told me "take your time, whenever your ready" in his reassuring tone I was ready and anticipating getting on with my plan ("jump him"). So he greets me with a hug, opens my door and does all the chivalrous things I had come to expect from him. And I can't say that anything about the night was really displeasing. We talked, we laughed, we look good together (I think) and I tried in my passive way to move forward without being well, forward.
Holding his hand, touching his leg, leaning in, sitting almost next to him. I even read his palm for Christ's sake! What more can one girl muster? Okay, in retrospect I could've maybe done more but to do so might not have been, well me.
All night I was dreading it, and when I finally ended up at the bottom of the steps of my front door I thought. This is it. Now or never. I tried to prolong the moment as long as I could. Bat those eyelashes, lean in for it, tell him I'm warmer in his arms. Yes, I did go there. And still those pecks on the lips!!!!! Am I that old fashioned to I think a kiss, a real kiss, requires moisture?
Well let the record be shown that it did not happen. My goal wasn't accomplished. I set out ambitiously and I've failed. I'm bored and I'm about to tap out. After all, my knight in shining whatever will be home in the blink of my mascara enhanced eyes.
Monday
Good riddance
I'm pissed or at least I was. Now all my problemas are flying in an airplane. "See ya", I want to say but our goodbye was much more complicated then that.
It began with a breezy MSN conversation gone wrong. "I hope I get to see you before you leave," I said. "Depends on our schedules" is the response I get that leaves a stingy lump in my chest. WTF???
For all the energy, concern, assistance I've devoted to him these past few weeks and that's the best I get?
But it wasn't. He drops into work two days before he leaves to say "I wanted to see you and I didn't know if I'd get another chance, I'll call you tomorrow." The girls ask why the boy they detest is kissing my ass.
Sunday comes without a phone call. Until 10.30 p.m. and arranging him to see him is more painful than removing gum from your hair, sans scissors. I arrive. In what seems like an instant he goes from cold and distant to warm and passionately intimate. But isn't that our way?
Tucked within a grasp that won't let go he says "I might miss you." I muster the strength to respond with, "I know you will" - for the thirty times I got up to leave him since I arrived, this time his lips, not his eyes asked me to stay. I concede but only for another five minutes or so.
As we finally move to part he says he'll e-mail. Whether he does or not I'm not sure I'll care too much although it would be a nice surprise. Honestly I think I'm more relieved than anything. At work today I was almost positively giddy over it.
No more problemas for at least two weeks. Yippie!
It began with a breezy MSN conversation gone wrong. "I hope I get to see you before you leave," I said. "Depends on our schedules" is the response I get that leaves a stingy lump in my chest. WTF???
For all the energy, concern, assistance I've devoted to him these past few weeks and that's the best I get?
But it wasn't. He drops into work two days before he leaves to say "I wanted to see you and I didn't know if I'd get another chance, I'll call you tomorrow." The girls ask why the boy they detest is kissing my ass.
Sunday comes without a phone call. Until 10.30 p.m. and arranging him to see him is more painful than removing gum from your hair, sans scissors. I arrive. In what seems like an instant he goes from cold and distant to warm and passionately intimate. But isn't that our way?
Tucked within a grasp that won't let go he says "I might miss you." I muster the strength to respond with, "I know you will" - for the thirty times I got up to leave him since I arrived, this time his lips, not his eyes asked me to stay. I concede but only for another five minutes or so.
As we finally move to part he says he'll e-mail. Whether he does or not I'm not sure I'll care too much although it would be a nice surprise. Honestly I think I'm more relieved than anything. At work today I was almost positively giddy over it.
No more problemas for at least two weeks. Yippie!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)