Wednesday, September 13, 2006

I've been thinking about this for four days

On Saturday night, I was blindsided.

I worked a full day. Drove an hour to Mom and Dad’s house. Went out for dinner with Mom and Dad. Was halfway into my pajamas – just the bottoms, because I started looking at the pictures the photographer took at Lucy’s wedding and got distracted.

He called. I put my jeans back on.

I always do that.

I’m good at telling myself that it means nothing.

We go out because we’re friends. Because it’s fun. Because maybe we like to be around each other, okay? No, we don’t take it seriously. No, feelings aren’t involved.

We’re what we are. What we are is what it is.

Questions aren’t asked.

I always put my jeans back on.

One drink, I told him. Just one.

For me, anyway.

As a result, we didn’t stay out very long.

Under the guise of something completely unrelated, I ended up inside of his house instead of inside of my car. I could feel something change the minute I closed the front door behind me. There was tension where there hadn’t been. I hung back. My heart raced.

“Come in here. Sit down with me. You don’t have to go right now.”

“I should go now. I won’t stay very long.” Broadcasting my discomfort, I sat down on the opposite side of the room.

As I expected, it happened. He started the Why Aren’t We Really, Officially Dating? conversation that we’ve had too many times.

And I gave him, in no uncertain terms, the What You’ve Done to Me to Make Me Never Consider Seriously Dating You list.

He heard me.

And then I recited the list again.

Not to be mean. To make him understand. I knew that I would agree to try us out all over again. I wanted to know, with certainty, that he had the knowledge necessary to not fuck this up again.

The list was long.

He was apologetic.

He said that he didn’t know why or how I talked to him anymore.

He acknowledged that he didn’t even deserve my attention.

And he admitted that he told his mom and a handful of his very closest friends that I was the girl he was going to marry.

The girl he was going to marry.

The words stopped my heart.

And then I fought him even harder. I pointed out his faults more directly. I didn’t fawn over his admission. I paced his living room nervously. I demanded improved behavior. I insisted on what I deserved.

I will try it again with him.

And, if it doesn’t work out, I’ll probably try it again after that.

There has to be a reason he keeps coming back.

There must be something that keeps inspiring me to take him back.

Hope springs eternal, apparently.

Just like my stupidity.


Plantation said...

Maybe if I had a better track record I could give you some shit...

Lady said...

I am genuinely excited for you - I really hope he's taken all you said to him on board...


Amy said...

There is some reason you keep taking him back and some reasons he knows that you will. I would make it my priority to find out what that reason is - if it's a healthy reason, then with work, this should work, but if it's not a healthy reason, then you should let it go. In either case, do NOT settle for less than you deserve EVER. Teach him how to treat you right (and treat him well, too).

Anonymous said...

I am also so genuinely excited for you. I do believe that people can make mistakes and remedy them and grow and change... perhaps this is his situation. In any case, he's trying SO HARD that that has to mean something... relationships are 100% more successful when people work at them. Keep us updated! A lot!!!!!

Anonymous said...

People always forget the rest of it: Hope springs eternal in the human breast. Man never is, but always to be blest.

Anyway. I was a real asshole to Faith and then she took me back, and we've been married for 40 years. Who knows?

A said...

Awww. You guys are so supportive.


I love you all!

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