Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Too short of an escape.

This is where I was the past two weeks. No muss, no fuss, and--most importantly--no men.

Back to life and reality now though. I wish I could have left my cell phone off for a few more days, but with having to go back to work the very next day and family wanting to catch up since I missed my birthday while out of the coutnry, I knew that it wouldn't be acceptable to stay disconnected.

So once I got home and thanked the stars everything stayed the way I'd left it (i.e. there were no drifters nesting in my living room), I plugged in the battery charger to my phone and waited to see what or who had sent me anything obscene while I was away. I was totally put in my place immediately because I'd only gotten one text message and voicemail from my best friend who wanted to wish me a happy birthday. But I also got one text from Dr. Shark earlier that day, welcoming me back home.

That was a total pleasant surprise. During my entire trip (well, during the few times I wasn't involved in some tropical adventure and had time to dwell and ponder) I imagined an embarrassingly countless number of scenarios involving my possible reconnection/reunion with Dr. Shark. We hadn't left things on a perfect note because he hadn't been able to see me like he said he would, and I was nervous that these two weeks away would be a chance for him to actually get away from me. On the other hand, we're both believers in that "distance makes the heart fonder" bullshit since we already have distance to wrestle with on a daily basis, so maybe these couple of weeks of complete blackout silence would somehow make him want me more.

The best case scenario that the dark, love-is-cruel part of my brain could come up with is that he would maybe remember to text me a week or two after I'd returned, if he remembered at all. I was determined not to send him an "I'm back!" text because I wanted to prove that I have some pride and self restraint too. Plus, I wasn't completely certain that he would even want to hear from me. He assured me before I left that he would "see me soon" and that he would miss me... But it's all just words.

Guys and their words... Destructive weapons.

So to not only have a text waiting for me from him, but on the exact same day that I said I would be arriving... It definitely fluttered my heartstrings a little bit. I hadn't mentioned the date during our last conversations but in ones previous to those, so for him to remember sort of blew my mind. Okay, okay, that sounds a bit extreme, but I've been trained to expect as little as possible from men. (Clearly, I'm damaged!)

He wasn't able to call me until today because he had run out of minutes (talking to who?--I wonder...), and we could only chat for a minute or two since we were both at work, but I think he wanted to hear my voice as much as I wanted to hear his. His text messages sounded tired (if that makes any sense) and a little grumpy, but hearing his voice and laughter totally brightened my jet lagged tired ass up. I didn't think too much about him while on vacation because one of my goals of the trip was to just have a good time with my girlfriends and not think about sad things, but when I did, I always had to question us. Do I really want to "waste" my time and energy with a person who is with me yet not with me? Do I really want to make my heart that vulnerable again? Does my happiness with him like three-four days a month make up for the misery of not being with him ninety percent of the days? Do I really want to be with a person who won't acknowledge knowing me? (He once called me his "dirty little secret.")

Stupid girl, I am.

Even stupider since I've been dirty texting with Rege while at work today. He wants to meet up, preferably tonight, but I said no. Not for moral or righteous reasons (who has time to be moral or righteous these days anyway?) but because I'm jet lagged, my house is a mess, I need a wax, and I'm on my period. I haven't been laid in like three weeks and I'm as horny as a monkey (I saw some up close while on vacation, and monkeys are so naughty!) so if it were just one or two of those I would totally be up for it... but four miserable components equal one out of commission girl.

Wish I were back on the island.


  1. I love the labels. Men are all about the froo-froo words.

    Dr. Shark sounds like a "nice jerk." Meanwhile, IMO, those are the most "dangerous" ones. They're bad enough that you still question why you have feelings for them, but they always manage to reel you back in by doing "something nice," like an "I miss you!" (yes, exclamation points can be exciting, but I still think that it's our fault for giving them too much gratuitous credit!) text.

    "You're my dirty little secret." Fuck you. Oh, and the answer to all your questions in regards to Dr. Shark should be, "HELL NO!"


  2. Kiss, I need you to physically be in my life to slap me awake sometimes. lol!

    I wish I could be as strong with conviction as you seem to be...