Awhile back, May 10th to be exact, I had occasion to sit with “B,” (the man who inspired me to start this blog) for a very long, uncomfortable and upsetting 45 minutes. He loaned me a book and I loaned him a CD. That took 5 minutes. The other 40 minutes were absorbed by his lecture, of sorts, wherein he expressed his concern over my soul for the way in which I had been living. Not the way he KNEW I was living. The way he SUSPECTED I was living since he was no longer the “beacon of righteous example” in my life, since we were no longer together. It was a pretty shitty 45 minutes.
I sat through it and listened to him with the respect I have always shown him, but I cannot deny his judgmental sermon left me hurt, angry and with less than warm feelings for him.
When we parted that day he told me to give him a call when I was done with the book and we could get together and “continue our conversation” when I was ready to return it. Instead, I mailed it back to him with a simple note thanking him. I wrote off the CD because I didn’t want to talk to him or see him and I had downloaded it already into iTunes so I could recreate it if it became necessary.
Yesterday I received the CD in the mail with a card and a magnet for my fridge. I was grateful to get the CD back but weary about the card. I didn’t open it right away. Wasn’t sure I even wanted to. I did, however, a few hours later.
The note was not unpleasant, in fact it was kind of melancholy in that he reminisced about our first date, and a couple of other pleasant events that had taken place throughout our relationship. He also slipped in a sermon, but that’s his way. It wasn’t as sharp as the one in May so I didn’t feel much in the way of irritation.
I did, however, have to fight the urge to contact him. WTF is up with that?
I was quite deeply in love with him when he decided to end our relationship. It was the complete and utter sadness from his actions that inspired me to start this blog. Sadness. Serious sadness. I couldn’t go a day or two without creating some reason to contact him. I celebrated when I had made it one week, two weeks, three weeks, and then I’d find a reason to contact him. I was a mess for a long time and I was unsure I would ever be able to move on, so to speak. I was unsure any man would ever be interested in me again. I was unsure I would ever love another man. I was a whiny, crying, all kinds of crazy, mess. Thought that would NEVER end. But it did.
Still, I wanted to call him last night. Not because I want him back in my life. I don’t. Not even as a friend. But the urge was strong. “I just want to let him know I received the CD,” “I just want to say thanks for the magnet,” “I just want to catch up really quickly,” “I just want to hear him laugh.” That’s the one that stopped me.
Why did I want that? For no GOOD reason.
I never called “B” – instead Blue Eyes called me for no particular reason. I was grateful.
I think the urge has passed, but I’m baffled by his ability, or possibly my need, to throw a wrench into my pretty happy and peaceful life when he pops up on occasion.
Maybe I’m just vulnerable because I S-T-I-L-L can’t run! Yeah, that must be it.
Alright. . . download from my brain is complete.