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?"

"Deal."

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

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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