*Disclaimer: The pictures throughout this post have nothing to do with the post, they are just some of my favorite ones from my trip to Hawaii that I don’t seem to tire (yet) of looking at. You’ll just have to deal with it. 🙂
Today was my first day back in the office after 12 glorious days off. I am actually blessed to have a job I love more than even I think possible, so while the festivities of Christmas and my time in Hawaii were over, I was excited to go back to work.
My hours are 7-4, but today I was early. I knew there would be a ton of email to go through and voice mail messages to deal with before I was able to get to two rather large projects that had been waiting patiently for my return. I had 167 email. Not bad, really. When I took a week off in August, just a week, I came back to over 500 email. It took me almost 4 hours to wade through, prioritize, reply and get through it all. 167 was easy peasy. A little over an hour and I was through them.
I picked up the phone twice to retrieve my voice mail but each time I got distracted and had to hang up. The first time I learned there were 4 messages. The second time I got about half way through the first message before I had to hang up. It was over an hour before I got back to it. Third times the charm so I picked up the phone, hit the retrieve button, entered my password and listened. 4 messages. Message one started to play from the beginning. I was pretty sure it was already handled, but I listened to it in its entirety just to be sure. I was right, it was handled. Delete.
Message two was from an unknown number and came in on December 26 at 10:47 p.m. That piqued my curiosity. B use to call me late like that. When we were dating he did it to leave me a usually sweet message to receive first thing in the morning. After we stopped dating he did it two or three times, usually after something I had done in my psychosis that would not just let him go. The one I remember most is after I chided him by email about missing my birthday, but I know there were a couple more times. He did it so he could say exactly what he wanted to say without having to actually talk to me. No conversation. Safe.
I really didn’t think message two was from him. I had quit hoping and wishing it was him, every time the electronic voice said “from an unknown number” about 2 months ago. We are coming up on the 6th month since we stopped dating. I think its pathetic that 4 months after the break up I was still wishing and hoping the messages were from him, but I was. I came to terms with it, however, and I didn’t do that anymore. I think six or seven hundred (exaggeration) messages from an unknown number NOT being him was enough to cure me of that ridiculous hope. But I was curious. I hit 2 to play the message and listened to someone hang up.
Message three was from an unknown number too. It came in on December 30 at 6:18 p.m. This did not evoke any curiosity. My boss works at all hours, even if its a holiday or she’s on vacation. She has been known to call me and leave long messages discussing some work thing that is on her mind that she wants me to help handle. More often than not she does not give direction about exactly what she wants me to handle, but she expects me to figure it out. I love this woman, and my job. No curiosity. Just hit 2 to play the message and for the second time listened to someone hang up.
Message four came in yesterday, January 2 at 8:31 p.m. From an unknown number. At this point irritation was boiling just under my surface. I wondered why the awesome phone system couldn’t tell these people had just hung up and why it couldn’t, on its own, delete the freaking messages so I didn’t have to waste, what? Thirty seconds? Yea, well, I had a lot to do and those thirty seconds seemed crucial. So I hit 2 to listen, expecting yet another hangup, and B began to talk.
I was instantly hit with a flurry of emotions. I was happy, sad, surprised, shocked, skeptical, and unable to hear what he was saying because the noise in my head was a little too loud. I stopped him from talking, took a deep breath and hit replay. Then I listened.
I listened to him ask me how I was, say he hoped I was great. He told me he was leaving a message like this because his feelings for me had not changed and he just couldn’t talk to me. He told me a day, but certainly not 2 went by that he didn’t think about me and that he talked about me with other people to such an extent that they weren’t sure we weren’t still dating. He said he knew I was just returning from Hawaii and that he hoped the trip had been good for my soul, that he wished me a great new year and finally, he said “I love you.”
It made me sad, but not sad like it would have made me two months ago. The more overwhelming feeling was a satisfaction and feeling of normalcy. I loved this man, and still do, even with all the issues between us. I miss him regularly, even though its less now, I still miss him. To hear him say he missed me and thought of me often was affirmation that I was not crazy, even though I felt like it pretty often. While I’m sure he has never missed me to the point of wanting to throw up, maybe he has. I’m not alone in this miss-fest, after all. Cool beans. Really, that’s what I thought.
Did it make me wish we were dating again? Surprisingly, no. It did, for a moment, make me wish we were capable of being just friends and talking, but that was only for a moment. As I’ve said from the beginning, he did me a favor breaking it off and now, I can’t go back. And honestly, don’t want to. No sex? Nope, not going to do that. I’ll just talk to God about that when I meet him.
It was a surprise to my day, but I handled it with surprising maturity, which is to say I did not cry and spend the morning miserable. I think that’s a great step. A positive move in the right direction. I’d thank him for that if we were talking to each other, but we’re really not.
On a slightly different topic, I saw M on Monday for about 10 minutes. As I told a friend, it was odd and good. Odd, because I wasn’t as taken with him this time. Good, because I wasn’t as taken with him this time. He’s still cute, sweet, young and a great kisser, but this time there weren’t any stars floating around his head when I looked at him. He was just a guy, who wants to sleep with me on occasion. I think, for what its worth, I’m willing to give the FWB a try with him. I might regret the decision later, because I am an emotional girl who likes to over analyze and worry, but I might not.
Even knowing full well who I am, I’m willing to give it a go.