Need(y)ing

The following Thursday Jack began the phone call with, "I have something to tell you and it's going to make you upset."

I felt my whole body clench tight in anticipation of whatever that was going to make me upset. I felt like whatever it was, I had to prove him wrong.

"I don't want to go to your birthday party."

I actually breathed a sigh of relief. Yeah, we were going to have yet another ridiculous conversation, but this I could live with. "Okaaaaaaay."

"You're not upset?"

"No."

"It's just that any time anyone brings it up, something rubs me the wrong way. I'm just getting a bad feeling about it. Your theme party is just too coupley for me. I feel that if I went, I would not have a good time."

"Well, if my choices are you going and dragging me down or you not going at all, I'd prefer it if you didn't come. It's just like the roadtrip a month ago: you can come, you can not come--either way I'll be going and I'll be having a good time." Then I mentally added, I've been going to parties for 26 years before you. I can go another 26 years. "I don't need you to go for me to be apart of something."

I was honestly okay with him not coming. I mean, I thought it was shysty the boy wasn't going to my birthday party thrown by our mutual friends, but given the alternative--him going and pouting the entire time--and me already knowing exactly what that's like, I know I would have a better time if he just wasn't there. I was right when I said it the first time: I don't need Jack.

I don't know if my surprising reaction served as the catalyst, but Jack let the floodgates open. Since our first date, we'd been planning to see Blades of Glory together. It released the previous weekend and he decided to push it back until this weekend. When I asked if we were seeing the movie the following night, Jack said he wasn't sure yet. He didn't feel like thinking about it right now.

"Okay, well if we didn't see it tomorrow, would we try for Saturday or just another time?"

"Why are you trying to get me to commit?"

"I'm not asking your five-year plan! I am just trying to see if we're going to see the movie this weekend. I'm just requesting information, that's all. Sometimes I feel like you think I'm going to do the 'girl' thing and trap you into a secret wrong answer that will get you in trouble; I'm not. I'm just trying to plan my weekend."

Jack at least admitted that he did feel that way and then proceeded to launch into an entire speech about how we shouldn't expect to see each other every weekend.

Only Jack has no tact, so instead he said, "Just plan on not seeing me unless I call you."

He also used the phrase, "I don't care" a lot.

Then he said he felt like I have this expectation that he has to call every night, and he does, but sometimes he doesn't feel like it. "Obviously I do like talking to you or else I wouldn't call at all," he finished.

"Jack! I'm not the one calling you! You call me! How am I getting into trouble for something I'm not doing?!"

"You're not in trouble. I just feel like you have this expectation."

"Well I don't. I mean, I enjoy that you call. It makes me feel good. But it is perfectly acceptable and valid to not call every night." For the record, I've actually mentioned that before.

We got off the phone and I kept staring at the screen, wondering how the hell that happened. I could have handled any one of those objections separately. Maybe even two of them. But that was an awful lot of rejection for one phone call.

The phrase that hurt me the most, however, was when he said that maybe I'd meet someone at the party. It sounded like he wanted to pass me off. I felt so cheap.

I never let on for a second to Jack about how hurt I began to feel as the call progressed; I handled it like a champ. But now that the call was over, his careless words began to sink in: I don't want to go to your party, I don't want to see you, and actually, I don't want to talk to you either.

I was angry; he knows how hard it was for me to trust him. The panic attacks and the crying, but he kept pushing. He knew fully well what he was doing--there was no room for confusion--and he kept barreling through. A man has the right to change his mind, but I wish he could give it an honest chance first.

I'm not going to let him annihilate me. I can play the game. He wants to run away, I'm going to let him. I don't need him. I honestly don't.

I don't want things to become issues and I don't want to talk about my feelings. I'm going to see the damn movie by myself just so I don't give him the chance to disappoint me. He doesn't care, so neither will I.

Oh god, this sucks. I allowed myself to trust him and the tears just kept coming. He's just a boy. He's just a stupid boy. But he's a stupid boy who I thought would be different. I was the stupid girl who trusted the stupid boy.

And I dealt with things the only way I knew how: I grabbed the bottle of vodka out of the freezer and a single shot glass and I sat down on my couch and began to pour.