Christopher called on Monday.
"You sound off," he said.
"I know. I have been telling you for a month now that I feel off and I think it's my thyroid medication," I said exasperated.
"Well are you off towards me or off in general?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I dunno."
"Yes, you do know," he pressed.
Dammit, he did know it. He knew exactly what was going on because I didn't call him at all that week and barely returned his calls. My phone log usually reads 20 calls placed to Christopher, 8 calls received, and 4 missed. Now my phone read 4 calls placed to Christopher, 20 calls received and 15 missed. He knew, hence the I miss you text from the night before.
Look, I will waffle. I will take forever to make up my mind about something, but once I do, I immediately act. I decided I wanted out with S on a Sunday and I broke my lease and moved out the next morning. There was no talk and then cohabitating and yelling and sleeping on couches. I was gone.
So I told Christopher. I recounted how he told me and my friends that he's the next George Clooney and he never loved me. I told him I didn't think he could come back from something like that. I told him that I've been unhappy. I told him I polled people over the last week and not only do 100% respond that it's weird he's never driven me, they also think it's indicative of our relationship.
And he denied the whole thing.
"I didn't say that. I didn't say anything about George Clooney. I didn't say that I didn't love you. You're crazy."
This was the same argument S would use. He would deny, deny, deny and then tell me I was crazy, indicating that the problem was me. I HATE this argument. Mainly because it deflates me. What do you say to that? "Nuh uh, I'm not crazy!"
"Yes, you did Christopher," I pleaded.
"Your friends are lying."
"You said it to me," I pressed gently. "You looked me in the face and said it."
Maybe he was so drunk that he didn't remember, but obviously he did to bring up the whole marriage argument with Harvey the next morning.
Then his next tactic was to argue with the statement "My 10 closest friends." He insisted there were 6 for some inexplicable reason and that this would make a difference. I got sucked into it and started counting my friends on my fingers.
"Look the bottom line is that love and marriage and children are in my life plan and it's not in yours," I stated, trying to steer the conversation back.
"Marriage is an institution designed to-"
I cut him off. "It's what I want."
"I can't believe you of all people want to get married with the way your parents' marriages turned out."
That hurt. That really hurt.
"It makes me want it more than ever so I won't be like them."
"I can't believe this is a deal breaker for you."
He huffed. "You should be mad at your friends. They turned you against me. Girls are mean like that. You should be angry with them not me."
"I have thoughts independent from my friends," I said meekly. "The driving thing bugged me, not them."
"Then I'll drive you. I'll take you out in a limo. I will spend all the money I have on you," he pleaded.
"It's not about the money. It's about feeling cared for."
Then we circled the argument how he doesn't drive because he would rather drink beer and he doesn't want a DUI. So I say exactly, he's always chosen beer over me by not driving. He shoots that he likes to drink when he goes out and can't just have one. I stick with the beer is more important than me line.
He said abruptly that he still wants to hang out and be friends and I cheerfully respond absolutely. He's a good person and he makes a good friend, he's just a lousy boyfriend. And apparently it was too soon to switch in friends gear because he took real offense to the last statement.
I hung up the phone, cried lightly for half of an hour and then was over it.
People keep asking me how I am. I am disappointed. I am disappointed that we could have been so much. I am disappointed that he didn't take care of the relationship, he didn't take care of me. I am disappointed that he didn't live up to who I thought he was. I'm disappointed he's going to be just another guy, like I feared.
I'm not heartbroken. I never spoke of him or our relationship in terms of forever. I never daydreamed of us moving in together. I don't think that my father knows that we were still dating because they haven't heard me say a word about him since Thanksgiving. I think I knew all along that this was going to be summed up to one, giant disappointment.