~Wednesday, April 26, 2006

Birthday Wishes

I paced around my apartment Sunday night-- Christopher hadn't called. I sat down on the couch, frustrated, and picked up the remote and flipped angrily through a few channels. I put the remote back down and got back up and paced some more in my tiny living room. Finally I let out an exasperated breath and ran to my cell phone and called him. I counted the 6 rings and waited for the voice mail which promptly picked up with its generic message, "This number is not avail..." I hung up the phone and paced some more. I never leave messages on voice mail unless I have more to say than "Call me back."

I was officially mad at Christopher. It was my birthday weekend and he hasn't called yet. At this moment I did have more to say to him than "call me back," but he probably wouldn't want to hear it. Or ever call again. I was mad at Christopher and he didn't even know it.

I sat back down on my couch and had the umpteenth drink of the weekend. I nosed around a few more channels. Repeats. As I saw the bottom of my glass, I reached an epiphany: how is Christopher supposed to please me when he has no idea what I wanted. I was mad at him for not calling me and he didn't even know it was my birthday. I sit around and expect him to make all the moves and make all the effort and I still reserve the right to get pissed if I don't get what I want. I am behaving like a true girl.

I found my cell phone between the couch cushions and called his number again. It had only been 10 minutes since my last call, but I didn't care. Six more rings, then voice mail.

"Hello Christopher, it's Sarah. It's my birthday. I want you to call me back and then come over."

Christopher called within a half hour. "Happy birthday!" he said. "I had no idea! I don't have a gift for you but I can write you a check."

"I don't want a check! That's what grandparents are for."

"Well, I'm out at a bar watching the Braves game, why don't you come join me and I'll buy your drinks?"


And I got what I wanted for my birthday, all I had to do was ask.

~Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Still Saturday night...

It's roughly 2:30 am Sunday morning and I'm leaving Andy's apartment when my phone rings. I hoped it was Andy and looked at the caller ID. It was the guy I was supposed to meet up with before I blew him off to spend time with Andy. Brandon was leaving the club I was supposed to take him to and wanted to drop by my apartment to "sober up" before his 5 mile drive home.

I called Andy complaining. It was late, I was a little drunk myself and I just wanted to go to bed and only be slightly hung-over on Easter. We were talking about having the "in" apartment in which people visit you and how my new place had become just that.

Sarah: Save me. (I'm not entirely sure from what, or what I expected him to do)
Andy: Sorry, I'm going to bed. You know he's not really coming over to sober up, right?
Sarah: Are you serious?!
Andy: Yup, he lives so close to us!
Sarah: Eww!
The thought hadn't crossed my mind that Brandon was more than just drunk and hungry. We dated my freshman year of college and I can safely say he was the worst person I ever dated. After THE WORST DATE EVER, we became just friends, but even at that, I haven't seen him in 5 years. He's so not getting any from me.

Andy was right, Brandon was very touchy-feely, grabbing at my shirt, asking me for hugs and cuddles. He had only gotten uglier with age.
Brandon: You look different.
Sarah: It's been 5 years!
Brandon: But there's something else...
Sarah: I'm blonde now, when we were dating I was a redhead.
Brandon: When did that change?
Sarah: Uh, right after we dated actually. You told me you only wanted to date blondes and only people your friends would be jealous of.
Brandon: So you changed your hair color for me?
Sarah: It was more of a "fuck you."
Brandon: I only said those things complimentary! (He tries to nuzzle me)
Sarah: No, those were the reasons you said you didn't want to date me anymore.
Brandon: I've changed, I'm not that person anymore.
Brandon kept touching me and it made me very uncomfortable. He was in my house, I couldn't leave. He was touching me unwantedly. It was my home and I didn't feel safe, which is such a scary feeling. Finally at 5 am, I was tired of his bullshit and asked him to leave when he said he wanted to sleep here.

I think Brandon is a harmless person, but it was definitely a wake-up call for me. I have to be more careful who I let in my home.

~Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Saturday night with Andy

Went out with Andy again Saturday night. He took me to his neighborhood bar and we split pitcher after pitcher of beer, both of us knowing we'd regret the decision in the morning when we had to get up for Easter.

When he began talking too much this time, I'd cut him off to get my piece in. I don't know if he thought that was rude or not, but seriously this guy can talk and I didn't want to just sit there all night. My eyes kept glazing over every time he brought up sports, but things looked up when we talked about being in high school theatre. Neither of us look like drama nerds and I thought it was pretty funny we have that in common.

Afterwards he showed me his apartment before walking me to my truck. He hugged me goodbye, again, and left it at that. It's starting to piss me off; I'm not a hugger. People who hug hello and goodbye are generally Goth 17-year-olds that hang out in front of Wendy's on Saturday night. That's so not me.

When Andy pursued me with much fervor, I wasn't into him. He used to like me, a lot. Now that we've gone out 4 times, it seems like his interest has waned while mine has waxed. I don't know if he's playing games or he doesn't like me now that he's gotten to know me. It's the second possibility that crushes me. My personality typically draws attention, not deters. I can lose weight, change my hair color, but I can't change who I am. If he didn't want me because he thinks I'm fat, I can up my time at the gym. If he thinks I'm an ugly person (not physically speaking), there isn't a whole lot I can do to fix myself for the next guy.

I don't know if I like Andy because I'm bored, or need a distraction from Christopher, or he seems safe because he wants to settle down, or because he's a good guy. But I have become absolutely smitten with him. When he smiles, I melt into a puddle. I want to be the one that makes him smile like that. His e-mails always make me laugh. I've been spending more time on MySpace just so I can look at his picture. This is not good for me.

If I have to make the first move then he obviously doesn't like me enough. Then again when we first started doing this, he told me he wants to take things slowly in his next relationship. I've decided to completely remove myself from the situation. I'm not going to e-mail him or call him, I've deleted his number from my phone to resist the temptation. If he still wants me, it's up to him. I'm out.

~Friday, April 14, 2006

Return of THE EX

I didn't put 2 and 2 together. I can pick up on the most obscure themes and symbols in books and movies, thanks to my ever-so-useful English degree, but the most obvious things evade me.

The nightmare I had Wednesday, I had it for a reason.

I have stat counters on my blogs, it's no secret, you can see them. About once a year my ex (not Mark but THE EX like I mentioned yesterday) will Google my name and it will take him to my blog. Once in my blog, he'll search for the word "boyfriend" to see my status. He'll never contact me, like shoot me an e-mail, but he'll read my blog and disappear just as quickly as he came. He did this last week.

It shakes me up every time he pulls this stunt. It physically jars me and puts me into a bad mood. Why would he look me up? It's not like he's horny and looking for a booty call, I live 800 miles away and we haven't spoken in 5 years.

Jenni once said in a comment that I will break plenty hearts myself. Here's the thing: I never have. I've had 3 true relationships and in all of them, I was the one dumped. I was the one with the broken heart; I was the one left behind. I still think of them collectively every now and then when I'm stuck in traffic and it's that time of the month. I sit behind the wheel, ashamed that I'm even thinking about them, positive that they never look back and think about me. They've all said I'm the best girlfriend they ever had, but at the same time I'm completely forgettable.

I never Google their names though. Does this make me more over my ex than he is over me? I might think of him when my hormones are raging, but I never actively search for him.

The nightmare I have is recurring. The circumstances are always different but the theme is the same: I'm marrying my ex simply because it's time for me to get married. I know it's a mistake before the ceremony even transpires, but I go through with it anyways. My parents are happy. I know I don't love him, I can't even talk to him because I don't know who he is anymore, but I go through with it.

I wonder if he looks me up because he misses me and wonders if he made a mistake. I don't feel that way about him, but just once I would like to be the one not left behind.

~Thursday, April 13, 2006

And this is where I should have lied

Sarah: Hello?
Andy: I woke you up.
Sarah: (sleepily) No.
Andy: I did. I woke you up. I'm going to let you go.
Sarah: No! We've been playing phone tag since Friday!
Andy: You act like I'm some elusive creature.
Sarah: I was having a bad dream anyways.
Andy: What was your dream about?
And this is where I should have lied. Unfortunately, he did wake me up and I wasn't thinking clearly.

I dreamed I got married to my main ex. You know, the big one that will haunt you until the day you die, or until you marry and have kids, hopefully. I dreamed I married him even though I didn't love him. He died and I was relieved. I was relieved because I got out of being married in the only way you can. I didn't fail in the marriage by having divorced him. He died and I was free. But I was upset because my parents used my wedding money on my first marriage and now that I was able to marry someone I actually loved, I would have to pay for the ceremony myself, i.e. a small wedding.

I'm pretty sure all of those topics are off limits to someone you like.

Andy was such a guy in his response, "So what? You just elope."

~Tuesday, April 11, 2006

Yes... er... maybe? The Sunday Edition

The next morning we get up and I made bloody marys for breakfast. Christopher then switched to screwdrivers and we both were to on beer by noon. He grilled us burgers for lunch and we decided it was nice enough to lay out, so we filled a cooler full of more beer and sat by my pool. Christopher tans, I don't. He's brown already and says the reflection of my skin in the sun hurts his eyes. At one point my skin actually burst into flames while I rotisseried myself on the chair, trying not to let the sun concentrate on any part of my skin for too long.

The absence of distractions forced us to talk.

"So tell me about the wedding plans."

Christopher had no idea to what I was referring, gulped audibly and broke out into a sweat unrelated to the sun.

"Your brother..."

"Oh. Oh!" We talked about his brother's relationship and Christopher opened up about his past, "I've lived with someone before you know."

I sort of got the feeling that he doesn't have much relationship experience. We've been doing whatever we're doing for 3 months. It's okay to have the past relationship talk at this point. We covered the bare basics without any details, which is how I prefer doing it. It should be a gathering of necessary information, not a sob story: Have you ever lived with anyone and for how long, how long was your longest relationship, etc.

I had to drop him off for an hour while my mother came over to give me some food. By the time I went to pick him up at his place, I was late and pissed off at my mother. My relationship with her is very rocky. He saw me upset for the first time, swearing off ugly lamps and announcing I can take care of myself. Instead of telling me to shut up, he talked me through my feelings and to not worry that my mother cried, it wasn't because of me. He then told me about his parents.

He can be really great when he wants to be. The only other time I saw this was when we went to Helen together. It's at these times I see him as an actual person with actual feelings instead of an opponent.

He asked for some blankets, spread them out on my living room floor, and made a makeshift area for us when I put in the new "King Kong." When I laid down, he wrapped his arm around me and squeezed me. My heart about thumped right out of my mouth. This is what I've always wanted from him and now I had it. I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't even know if I could trust it. Maybe things would change once I moved, but maybe not. He's acting differently with me, but he's done this before. He'll be really great, like the last time I saw him, and then I didn't hear from him in 2 1/2 weeks. He'll move forward and then pull away. I didn't know if this was another one of those times. We're camped out on the floor and everything seems perfect, but what next?

I decided to try to not worry about the future anymore, to enjoy each experience to the fullest and not worry if he'll call or not. I relaxed a bit. Christopher then paused the movie, leaned over me, and kissed me. We made out for the first time. Of course it lead to other things and even those were different. He was closer to me and kissed me and spoke to me and was tenderer. Afterwards he said he was gentler with me because I "seemed fragile."

He may have been speaking physically, but I wondered if he saw something else. Did he see something in me? I realized I was feeling fragile. "Fragile" was the perfect word for me at that moment.

The whole day was great. We interacted and conversed as if we were in a relationship. Normally this is the part of the post where I tell you how happy I am and how great I feel, but I feel like I've already cried wolf with Christopher too many times. I am happy and I do feel good, but I'm not going to worry what's next. I may not hear from him again for awhile. That's fine. I know I can't emotionally trust him so I'm not going to let myself develop any feelings. I'm not going to romanticize him. I've had 3 months worth of practice.

~Monday, April 10, 2006

Yes... er... maybe?

I wondered if things would be different with Christopher once I moved, now I know.

The answer is yes... er... maybe?

I was sitting in my new apartment Friday night, too exhausted to finish putting things away, much less begin tackling my closet -- a nightmare for any girl who just realized that she wore a lot of slutty clothes in college. I was feeling a bit lonely, especially since I have to wait a week before the cable man can come, so I called the only 2 people I know that live in city limits.

Christopher and Andy. (shhh, yes I know)

Christopher called me back and told me he got my e-mail with my apartment pictures and admitted it looked nice. I didn't really want anyone to come over on Friday because my place wasn't in presentation condition yet. As soon as he found out I didn't have TV, he wasn't interested either.

He called again Saturday night. I had plans to go back up to school for Conor's birthday party, something I really didn't want to do since it was my first weekend at my new place. I invited Christopher because he usually attends those house parties with me. He talked me into staying and he and I went out for beer and wings. (I don't know why beer and wings is a typical date for me, but it is and it's always my suggestion.)

So Christopher and I went out to eat for the second time ever. By the time I got over to Christopher's it was late and we went to what I call a convertible restaurant: restaurant by day, bar/club by night. The advantage is these places usually serve food until midnight. When we got there it was in full bar mode with a bad British cover band. I talked the door guy out of charging us the cover.

Dinner was good and we talked and laughed at the older women rocking out to the horrible band. Women in sport coats and track pants, I still don't get it. Afterwards I took him back to my place and gave him the grand tour. Christopher, who can never say anything nice, loved it. "Look at these cabinets!" he exclaimed. He didn't have one bad thing to say about it, which really set me at ease. I love my place and I didn't want to hear him bash it, saying how his is better.

He brought over "Team America" we continued our gross beer consumption. I eventually passed out in his lap while he laughed at the movie and sang along. I woke up and rolled to the other side of the couch and laid my head by the armrest.

Christopher: Why'd you move away?
Sarah: (not completely conscious) You were going to be mean to me.
Christopher: I didn't say anything!
Sarah: I know, but you were about to. I could feel it. Your aura... (mumbles incoherently)
Christopher: Shuddup. Come here.

To be continued

~Thursday, April 06, 2006

Remember this moment

Remember the past couple of days where you decided that maybe you do want a relationship. Remember when Andy occupied your thoughts more than Christopher. Remember forgiving his faults after he sent you a funny e-mail and you would look him up on MySpace and think how handsome he is when he smiles. Remember thinking you could really like this guy.

Remember waking up early Tuesday morning, excited because you were going to see him that day. Remember him canceling because he had to go run errands.

Remember him showing up in a t-shirt and jeans. Remember him talking about himself the entire time, again, and you wondered if he was ever interested in you. Remember him asking for your credit card so you could pay your half. Remember him telling you to ask another guy friend to help you with some stuff this weekend, someone you knew longer. When you were polite, he threw it back in your face. Remember him patting you on the back during your hug good-bye while you squeezed him tight.

You thought you liked him. When you thought you made him angry with you, your chest tightened -- the only sign you can trust about yourself. Now you feel bad.

This is not the person for you. Remember this moment. You feel like a piece of crap at this moment. He doesn't like you enough. You don't feel good enough, smart enough, old enough. You've questioned your personality: your greatest asset. He should make you feel good. He should make you feel happy. Instead, you're apprehensive.

Do not call him. Do not call him. Do not call him...

~Wednesday, April 05, 2006

And I just finished saying I don't get drunk dialed anymore

So I haven't heard from Christopher since our last visit 2 1/2 weeks ago. I wasn't too worried about it: I knew I didn't do anything wrong, I knew we'd eventually fizzle, and I'd been preoccupied with moving. I was planning to do a blog post this week about why you should never buy a 12-pack of condoms, but the phone rang last night.

Gorillaz's "Feel Good, Inc" plays and I know who it is even before I open my eyes from a dead sleep.

Christopher acts like not calling in 2 1/2 weeks is a perfectly normal thing to do. I wanted to ask him why he didn't call, but I didn't want to immediately scold him. If he calls and I punish him, then chances are he won't call again.

I think he was just drunk and wanted someone to talk to. He invited me over and wanted me to take the following day off with him. I couldn't. I was house sitting for my father and dog sitting 4 dogs. If I left to go stay with him, then the dogs wouldn't be able to go outside to pee in the morning. I wanted to take a day off next week and finish setting up my new place and didn't want to just call out tomorrow. He got kinda mad and hung up.

And called back right after I fell asleep again. He said if I came over, he'd help me move some of my big stuff this weekend. As much as I needed the help, I couldn't just leave the dogs. I offered another night this week, but he wanted me over there now. He hung up on me again.

This time I kept the phone by my side. He did that 5 more times last night and the calls kept getting more and more ridiculous. At 1:45 am I got a call where he said he measured himself.

At 2:30 am, I got a call where he said he spilled his drink on himself. Naked.

I would just like to say if I got tanked and called a guy 8 times on a Tuesday night, I would be labeled as a crazy. A drunk crazy. But because he's a guy, it's categorized as funny.

Needless to say, I'm really tired today. I didn't get up early to dress for work and a date with Andy. I overslept and didn't even shower. I pulled my khakis out of the back of my truck and shook them to get rid of the wrinkles. My bangs have a crimp in them. I'm a mess.

I'm glad I got a chance to say no to him once, as Angel Girl suggested. Each phone call got sadder and sadder and I think if I didn't have the responsibility to the dogs, I would have went over, just to appease him if nothing else. I'm moving 6 blocks away from him so maybe we'll get a chance to hang out more because it won't be such a big ordeal of me driving 40 minutes to see him anymore. It'll be a 15 minute walk or a 4 minute drive. This move will be very interesting.

~Tuesday, April 04, 2006

I'm done.

I got stood up today. You gotta be pretty crafty to get stood up before noon.

Andy and I had lunch plans today to go to sushi buffet and just gorge ourselves. The morning got later and later and I never got an e-mail from him confirming plans. At 11:15 I finally broke down and asked him what time, only to get a response that he didn't want to go today because he had errands he wanted to run. He wanted to go tomorrow instead.

This is all fine and well for other people, but I hate it when people break plans with me. I see it as an insult. "I'd rather be doing this than spending time with you." I blocked time off for him. When I got dressed for work today, I got up a little early and made sure to wear something flirty. I spent a little extra time on my hair. He doesn't think about this and how I'll have to go through the same thing tomorrow. I got shoved aside for errands. I hope he chokes on it.

I want someone to be excited by me. I want someone who can't wait until lunch. I'm so sick and tired of guys. They're all crap. One's asking you out properly, but then informs you you're paying. The other one would rather spend time in CVS than endure an hour with you. Another one only calls when he wants to hang out, but never beforehand.

Why do I even want a guy? They walk around with their hands in their pants and proclaim all women are crazy. They aren't wired the same way as me and they will never understand me. Because they will never understand me, they are never going to fulfill me.

I wish I could be one of those girls that uses guys. That would be sweet. They'd call me up and want more and I could just push them away. Make them feel one ounce of the crap they give me. This is just masochism. I know now why girls go lesbian.

I'm so fed up with the whole gender. Who needs you? The whole lot of you? You're no good to me anymore. I'm done.

And the worst part is, as girls we have to play the game. I can't tell him it isn't okay to cancel because it hurts my feelings. Instead I send him back:

No worries! Tomorrow will be fine, but I have plans Thursday and Friday.
Because I don't want him to think that I get upset easily. I'm supposed to be easygoing and pretend I don't care. I pretend I don't care about anything most of the time. I just deal with things and justify them internally. I'm just a nodding smiling Barbie doll, grinning like a jackass for no effing reason.

The kicker: the results are still the same. Whether I'm upset and you know it, or I just keep it in, I'm still not treated how I want to be. How I should be. No wonder I don't know who I am or what I want. When was the last time I allowed myself to feel anything in front of someone else?


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