[dropcap]So [/dropcap]after reading Wax On Wax Off, Date’s On Date’s Off (which I’ll assume you’ve done *pointed look*)…I know what you guys are thinking. Ditch The Nick Name. Ditch him. Ditch him. Ditch him! And Ditch him quick, girl! And I get it. I get you. I should know better. Or maybe I shouldn’t. Maybe you would have done the same. Maybe you wouldn’t. But try to remember there are always going to be things I forget to post on here. Things I leave out. And maybe they change things. Give you a different opinion of things. Maybe they don’t. But remember. Hindsight is 20/20 and while sometimes I’m harsh and abrupt and know my shit. The real life me. The one who tries to be open to things. She’s a little softer. A little more optimistic. She believes in people. Most of the time. Believes in the best in people. Most of the time. And sometimes she’s right. Sometimes she’s wrong. So there ya go. Cut me a little slack. Because well. Hopefully you love me 😛 even if they don’t.
So here’s a couple tidbits I may have neglected to include:
After that first date with The Nick Name and following that text message on my drive home Had a really great time. There was more texting. Initiated by him. Something about the magic of my shirt. (not unlike my magic dress and magic jeans from previous dates with other “somethings“). So here we were…barely home from a first date and we’re texting back and forth still. Seemed a good sign to me. After having been unsure on the date about whether he found me attractive (due to the lack of major touching [hugs excluded] and having never noticed him checking me out). I was relieved to find out. That indeed he was loving the way the clothes hugged my body. Or perhaps more exactly. The way my shirt dipped and swayed. Along with my lady bits. And the necklace that often hung down in between them. Apparently he had spent the evening trying not to get caught. Trying not to be obvious. But keeping his eyes on the ladies.
And an even better sign. The phonecall the next day. When we were just talking about our days. And he happened to mention. About his lunch with a friend. Where it was clear he had bragged about me. His hot YOUNG date. And there may have been some insinuations that he may have also relayed a positive review of my…attributes. And I can’t lie. I’m no youngbuck. We all know I’m 29. So to have a guy acting like I AM some youngbuck he’s lucky to be hanging around with? I’m saying. That’s some good shit. I liked the view of my reflection in his eyes. Just sayin’.
Detour. So I know what you’re going to say. These tidbits don’t matter. This all just sounds like excuses. A dude on Twitter said it pretty clearly:
And honestly. The fuck if I know. I mean the guy on Twitter. Quite possibly oh so right. But it didn’t seem as cut and dried to me as say. A guy only ever calling you after midnight and wondering if he wants to date. Because I’m aware. That’s clear. He doesn’t. But a guy cancelling because he’s sick. When all other signs point to liking you. Hmm. For me. Stupidly. Or not. It felt like a thinker.
But regardless. I had made a decision. To be aloof. Make no effort. And this decision. Lasts for 2 days. December 15th. A full 48 hours. Before I caved. Try not to judge me. Remember the TMI I alerted you to in the previous post. Give me some Goddamn sympathy alright. I was a girl inundated with hormones. Honestly I think I did a pretty rad job. Considering how many chicks go all crazy and shit. When I caved. It was simple. Calm. Relaxed. Breezy.
How are you feeling? I said. That’s it. Keep it simple. My logic. I was just being nice. Delusional logic works for me. Don’t hate.
His response. I’m good to go! Lol. Funny just left UBC and thought about you, How’s SSD?
I say something about being awesome and just busy busting my ass on these exams and counting down the days till my last exam.
He rallies. Come on Tuesday!
I respond in turn. Asking him something about aside from feeling better how is his day going?
He responds with an extremely detailed list of the activities of his day. No simple text. Dude is writing out a novel. And so I ask. What exactly does “good to go” mean after all. Is that like he feels better than the day prior…or he’s feeling good enough to hang out?
Good to go with both. He says. Good to go with both. But have daughter this weekend. So how is after your school is done?
My thoughts about this. Um. Fuck. I don’t want to wait another week to hang out. It’s already been almost 2 weeks since our first date. Which by the way is a sensitive issue with me since after all…isn’t this kind of what happened with Garbage Man…ya know…like when I’d assumed he’d died of the plague?
So I ask. What about tonight or tomorrow night? Because if not it’ll be another week before I’ll be free again.
And that’s when I get it. The text message. That closes the window. That starts the building of a brick wall. I’ll explain further in a second but let’s see this *sarcasm* fucking awesome text repartee.
I’m at this customer function, then tomorrow xmas/retirement part for a guy I used to work with. The xmas/mid term season is too busy to start dating someone lol.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to respond. Is he making a commentary on busy schedules? Is this the blow off? Is he actually busy (and me too)? Is he just not that into me and this is the kiss off? Is he just retarded? So I respond with the only response I can think that of.
I mean shit son. What am I going to do…argue with him? That’s fucking retarded. But that’s not the end. He responds. Which again adds to my confusion.
Don’t be mad, its obvious we are, have been, both crazy busy this month. And I was sick too, didn’t help.
But wait I think. Didn’t I only respond with Ok. So I say I’m not mad. All I said was Ok. Was there another response you had been hoping for?
Nope. He says Just checking, making sure the “ok” wasn’t dismissive. It’ll happen! Later.
Yeah. Later is motherfuckin’ right. Only the thing is. I’m torn. Between the me who wrote this (only the first few paragraphs are pertinent). And the me that’s made of cotton candy and rainbows and motherfuckin’ sparkles and is always open and up for anything. But the truth is. After this exchange. And the good 15 minutes or so I sat in complete silence STEAMING and absolutely livid with the retardation I was being dealt (and perhaps buying into). That window where I’m soft and cuddly. Agreeable and sweet. The girl you want to take home to mom. That window of time where I want to hold his hand and be open to all things cute with The Nick Name. Yeah that fuckin’ window slammed shut.
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