After I’d spend the day occupying myself with a walk downtown. After buying Himalayan Salt at the market, after Sushi for lunch, and after wandering past the old BealArt stomping grounds (which is now a basketball court), after, I came home. But I was still wracked with this need to reach out to him.
But I maintained ‘radio silence. I was silent. Completely silent. I told him what I needed to say, and that was that.
So, after keeping busy the rest of the afternoon and evening with important stuff, like clearing my Chakras, meditating, and showering away all the bad mojo energy, I felt much calmer. More focused. Much, much more so than I had for days. Maybe even weeks, actually.
So who do you imagine shows up at my door at 11:20 last night? Wasn’t the Tooth Fairy. Nope, standing there was HIM, with a container of food.
Practical. I’ll give him that. Most men after having an argument show up with chocolate or roses, but you have to sort of appreciate a man who instead shows up with food. You know, like dangling raw meat in front of a tiger to distract them.
Apparently, my ‘radio silence’ was for naught, since I guess he had smashed his phone into a billion pieces a few days before. I guess he was angry.
I almost threw him out. I swear. What the heck is wrong with people? Can they ONLY show up when I have to work at some ungodly hour the next day? I mean, seriously? Is that the ONLY time I can have random, uninvited visitors?
Ok, fine I told him come in.
We talked a bit, but I was half asleep and really wanted to at least scrounge out, maybe, 4 hours sleep. So, we just got undressed and went to bed. To sleep. Well, talk for longer than I really wanted to, but I did sleep. Finally.
It did feel nice having him there, even if he wouldn’t shut up.
So of course when I get home he’s not here. Course not, why would he be? I work a later shift tomorrow, it would be convenient for me, I’d be able to maybe say some other stuff I wanted to say. Establish some ground rules. Maybe, you know, all that other stuff I wanted to say. But nooo.
Maybe I’m just not seeing this all clearly. His first words were are you still angry at me? Oh, and you really said some pretty mean stuff.
Oh really? Me? Your Princess? Your sweetie? Pretell, what particular ‘mean’ things did I say?
Em, I texted him once Monday, and once Tuesday, and that’s it. And yes, the second one was rather, em, pointed and, well, maybe a bit nasty.
I guess he didn’t appreciate being called a dying mean drunk.
I would imagine that’s when he smashed his phone and it exploded.
So, who knows what the heck he wants.
If he doesn’t like that truth, change it.
He said I scared him. Well, you know, he’s the one who kept pushing for an answer to “what do I want”…so I told him. I want a companion, a mate, a boyfriend.
And we haven’t even dealt with how angry I was with him for pulling this right at the 15th anniversary of your death.
Just bad timing, I know, not like he planned to be a broken and scared boy, but that’s what happened.
I was really surprised to see him. God alone knows I wanted him to show up, but I really never expected him to. He’s too stoic, too, too, black and white. I thought he would just turn his back and go on with his, well, I think, dismal life.
Drink, work, and die.
I also told him, that it wouldn’t be his death that hurt me, but his living.
I don’t know, maybe he really does want more. He could have more. And I know he knows he’s more than just this mean, broken, drunk.
He said to me that there are just days he really isn’t a nice person, and he tries to keep away from people. Which, by the way, is about as close to an apology as I’m going to get from him. He said to me once, that he makes a habit of never apologizing, and to not expect one. I’ve had two so far. I’m on a roll.
Well, least he knows he can be an a$$. Or, an angry stubborn old goat.
Ok, so I’m just from now on just going to go with the flow. Which is what I told him I wanted from the very beginning. Told him…”just take it as it comes”.
I’m taking my own advice.
I want to love, be loved and know that I am. Not question it. For a bit there I did. I could see it in his eyes when he looked at me. I could see it in how he worried about me biking to work so early in the morning. Wanted me to text him when I arrived safely. Always reminded me to dress warmly. Reminded me to eat. It felt good.
Yet, there are these things, this baggage that he carries. This short timeline that his doctors gave him. How long? A year? Less? We don’t know.
So, Mom, there is that.
I don’t know. Wish you could give me some advice. Whether I’d take it or not, well. : )
I will, of course, keep you abreast of events as they transpire. Never a dull moment in Paula Land.