~Friday, July 31, 2009
~Thursday, July 30, 2009
I mentioned earlier that I've had a few set backs with Christopher. The thing is he doesn't know about them; they were all self-inflicted freak-outs on my part.
M-Joy got a frantic e-mail from me earlier this month when I panicked because Chrtistopher was being KIND and HONEST and AFFECTIONATE. I apparently took this as a sign from the devil.
"Ok, I am having a really hard time wrapping my brain around this affection," I wrote. "What's with the sudden and dramatic change? Does a guy just make a decision like that and commit to it?
"And my problem for you is I apparently still haven't gotten over some of the disappointments I experienced with him last time 'cause I'm still bringing that stuff up and kind of retroactively scolding him. I am beginning to think that I don't know what a healthy relationship looks like even if it bit me in the face, and I don't think I know how to be in one."
M-Joy is one of the few people in my life who gives really solid advice that I should follow 100% of the time. We e-mailed back and forth, her calming me down with each e-mail until she wrote something that just clicked:
"You are so concerned with missing a warning sign that everything is a warning sign."
And that's why I threw a minor fit because he kissed me in a Blockbuster Video.
But slowly my issues surfaced yet again. I had somehow then decided that Christopher's attention towards me was self-serving and superficial.
On my way home from a date with myself late one Friday night, my phone lit up in the darkened car with a text from Christopher. He read my Facebook status about happy hour with friends and was checking up on my whereabouts. I responded (too quickly) and turned up the volume of the CD I was listening to as if the deafening music could drown out the thoughts in my head of why is he just contacting me now after a few days of silence. All I got out of it was an ear ache.
He invites me over for yet another Saw and I leave for his house immediately because it's almost midnight. I arrive in the city for the 3rd time that day after putting in a very full Friday of work and social activities. He showered. He shaved. He ran out and bought beer. My pink beer coozy I left at his apartment was frozen and waiting for me, but I wasn't impressed because Christopher had been inconsistent that week.
After the movie, Christopher felt like a bath. I chuckled to myself. I remember this. I knew what was coming from the same night over 3 years ago. He made a hot bubble bath. Lit candles. Turned off the lights and put in a Harry Connick, Jr. CD. I assumed the position, the same as last time, craddled between his legs Pretty Woman-style as he scooped water and poured it on me.
I was not impressed. I was too caught up in the inconsitency of his affection and whether or not he truly liked me. And I'm smart enough to know that if I have to ask myself that question then I already know the answer. I'm too busy seeing his game and writing off the night to even consider he's trying to be romantic.
"Forever, for Now" begins to play and Harry Connick, Jr. croons, "If nothing lasts forever/I guess I better/Take you forever/For now." I openly scoff.
"What?" he asks.
"That's such a guy thing to say," I sneer.
"What? Forever for now?"
The chorus repeats itself and I scoff again, so much so that Christopher skips the CD ahead to the next song.
And then he washes my hair. Okay, that move was a bit surprising. He leaned forward and kissed the nape of my neck. I was so panic-stricken in confusion that I didn't even respond. This was new and unexpected. I began considering the possibility that I may have been wrong. My mind is whirling as he tries again and I at least have the capacity to kiss him back and make out with him a little.
We end up in bed. Afterwards he says he's sore because it's been so long since he was with someone and he's out of shape. And then he wants to know why I'm not sore. When I stayed silent, trying to wrap my head around this whole night, he presses again implying that I'm not sore because I'm with other people. I kissed his shoulder and told him he would be the only reason that I would be sore and I wonder what kind of sick game is he playing. Does he care or is he just being the biggest asshole ever?
And that was the night the inconsitency stopped. It turned out I was wrong. I was wrong about everything. Christopher cared and I almost missed it because I was making up scenarios in my head. I wish I could have that night over again just so I could enjoy it this time.
It's made me question all of my judgments with Christopher. It's quite possible that all the doubt I had in my head regarding him was my own sabotage. He was different last time too, but I think I really was the cause of my own demise years ago.
~Monday, July 27, 2009
Love, Sarah at 1:58 PM|
~Wednesday, July 22, 2009
~Monday, July 20, 2009
~Wednesday, July 15, 2009
~Tuesday, July 14, 2009
~Monday, July 13, 2009
Another date with Christopher. Part of me doesn't need to recap the entire date word for word like I've done in the past. I think this is a good thing and I'm viewing it as a sign of stability. That I'm comfortable enough with him and confident in where I stand, I don't need to look for hidden signs about how he feels about me.
(Like how we went out together for the first time instead of hanging around his apartment.)
(Or how I told him about my friends and how much cooler they are than me and he flashed me a lingering smile that told me I was plenty cool on my own and I melted into a puddle in my heels.)
(Or when I didn't see him Saturday night but woke up Sunday morning with a good night text from him long after I went to bed and my heart fluttered.)
Another reason I don't have much to say is because I ended up passing out on him pretty early Friday night. I cuddled up to him to watch the latest installment of Saw and somehow drifted off to sleep while buckets of blood spilled on screen.
Next thing I know, the apartment is dark and Christopher was standing in front of me with his arm outstretched towards me. "Come,let's go to bed," he said.
The movie previously on TV was over and the TV was now off. The bed that was made had been turned down and there was a fresh glass of water waiting for me by my side of the bed. He wiggled his wrist at me while I tried to get my bearings.
"You did all that while I was sleeping?" I asked.
"Yeah. I looked down and saw your eyes closed, so I let you be," he said.
I grabbed his hand and he pulled me up and then off the couch. "You're so..." I paused while thinking of the right word. Nice was what I was going to say but its overuse loses any genuine meaning. "Kind," I finished.
Emotionally Unavailable Christopher has become Christopher the Kind.