on not asking for advice, because odds are, i won't take it, and soon you'll stop giving it

i don't know what this feeling is stuck in my gut and my heart and my throat and behind my eyes, but i think that after reading this, your only feeling is going to be disappointment

i went to the show with Muscle Man.



here's how that transpired:

i had decided that i wasn't going to go with him. 10 out of 10 friends agreed that it was a very bad idea.

by thursday my resolve had weakened. i had sorta convinced myself that i was making way too big of a deal out of it. afterall, it was just a show with a friend, no big deal. i mean he didn't think it was a big deal. to him, it was the same as going to a show with any other regular friend.

i broke down and called him to discuss. obviously the only reason i called him was because i wanted him to say the perfect thing, something along the lines of, 'i want you to go. i want to see you. i miss you. i love you. i would be miserable without you there'. obviously what he said none of those things. he did say that he wanted me to go, and that he had been looking forward to it.

i flip flopped all day. then, my other friend that was going, my only saving grace, Boy From Work II, bailed, deciding to sell his tickets on craigslist in order to pay his cell phone bill, rather than spend double that on a night out. reasonable. except that then my back-up plan was gone. BFWII convinced that if i was looking forward to it even less now that he wasn't going that i might as well not go, so i put my ticket on criagslist also. and then MM called, and he finally said what i needed him to hear:

'please come, i miss you, i miss hanging out with you, i miss seeing you'

totally unprompted.

'wow', i said, 'okay, i'll go.'

why was that so hard?

i had some hob-nobbing and elbow rubbing to do with some celebs at a work-related event before the show, so i headed off to that to drink champagne and become the beautiful, confident, hilarious person i needed to be to get through the night (now don't let this statement at all lead you to believe i lead a glamarous life, i don't, i just occasionally get to do cool things for work, this was one of them, and i spent the majority of the time in a corner, alone)

by the time i showed up at MM's house, i was glowing the perfect champagne bubble induced glow and looked particularly on point, since i had been dressing up for celebs, not seeing him of course. i strode into his house uber-confidently and the second thing he said after 'hi' was 'you look great', obviously i responded 'i know'. guess the biatch in me is also champagne induced.

this is what i do, when im trying to prove how over it i am, i be a flippant biatch. example #2:

him: i do miss you
me: well, i don't miss you
him: that's mean
me: well do you want me to tell you the truth, or what you want to hear?

i don't know what i can't just say something normal like 'thanks' or 'i miss you too', but no, instead i go for ice cold. really good for positively reinforcing his sweet behavior.

i was being charming in other ways though, like telling him he looked dumb in his hat, and that he couldn't wear that shirt with those shorts. i was also drinking more beers and getting more drunk.

we met up with some of his friends at the show, and as soon as we got past the ticket taker, i was gone. he had mentioned that another one of his friends, who i loved, was on there way and was meeting us there, and i knew i didn't have the heart to see her, so instead, i parked myself in the middle of the dancing, jyrating and probably drug induced crowd and stayed there for the entirtiy of the show, booty dancing with a guy wearing a hood that was very handsy, and whose face i never actually saw. the perfect concert boyfriend, i'd say.

i randomly ran into MM and his friends once hoodie released me from his plevic region, which was very near the end of the show. i started dancing a safe distance away from, but certainly in front of MM. a little forbidden fruit action there - you can look how hot i look dancing in this ultra sexy way, but you certainly can't touch.

show ended, we headed back to his house.

things got a little crazy from there. we were both highly intoxicated. and i spent the ride back to his house talking to Boy From Work on the phone. its pretty transparent to anyone that i was just trying to make him jealous. trying to show him how many other men i had in my life that think i am totally flawless. i didn't really expect it to work.

the only person breezier than me, is MM. he pretty much adamantly refuses to let emotion override rationality, except, it seems, when drunk. after a few too many drinks his insecurities come out. the emotions he refuses to let me see any other time of the year.

when we got back to his house i refused to go in the house. i parked myself next to the tire of my car, and was determined to stay there, until i was sober enough to drive home. he pleaded and begged me to come into the house, which is the main reason why i was refusing. i have done this before. and would continue to do it for the rest of the night.

i sat there, trying to dial any friend that would answer, and at some point (11:49PM, to be exact) and a still unknown reason, i decided to call my mom. as soon as i heard her voice i immediately broke into tears. if i'm being honest, it was because of MM, but i blammed it on the fact that she was having surgery on monday and i was scared about that and upset that i wouldn't be home to be there with her. since i just teared up thinking about that, there must be some truth to it, but i dont think that was really the root of the problem (as my therapist would say). i was crying, and i mean really bawling on the phone.

as soon as MM realized this, he sat down next to me on the driveway and put his arm around me. i think this was also partially, or primarily, the response i was trying to get from him. sympathy. i ended the conversation with my mom, but continued to cry, hard, about my mom, and her (very minor) surgery, and all of the injustices of the world. he was very patient with me. and very very kind. he just sat there while i cried and didn't act disgusted at the amount of snot that was pouring out of my nose or the number of ultra-black mascara running down my face.

when quieted down, a bit. it was time for him to get honest. he told me about how much he cared about me. and how much it hurt him when i said mean things to him (ie. 'i do not miss you', in response to 'i miss you' or 'you are an asshole', repeatedly, possibly 100 times). and how he wanted the best for me. and missed our friendship. and how many things he respected about me and had learned from me. and at one point he used the word love. yes, he definitely said 'i love you'. certainly not in the romantic sense, but in the, i deeply care about you as a person and as a friend.

i probably said something cold and sarcastic in response.

after he got done saying all these wonderful things, i could hear the but looming.

i stopped him there. do not but me. do not end this diatribe by repeating to me for the 121.5th time why it didn't work. i know that part. i am very familiar with it. don't ruin this with a but.

but (ha.) i was also humbled. i had never, in all the time we were together, and all the time we have been apart, considered that he could have strong feelings about me, as a person. maybe they aren't romantic, i want to marry you, kinds of feelings, but i admire the crap out of you and my life is better when you are in it, kinds of feelings.

i hadn't considered, although, to be fair, with his nonchalant attitude, i really had no reason to consider, that he would have feelings about what happened with us. that he could be disappointed about the way things turned out. that it could hurt him when i tell him a million times that i don't want to be friends and don't want to see his face again.

i always thought when i walked away, it didn't matter to him. i honestly thought that he was completely indifferent.

he had gone on like nothing changed in his life and he was on to bigger, better things. like it was no big deal. whereas i went on like the world around me was crashing into a million pieces. i questioned everything, mostly myself, and was openly and visibly upset. every time i called, upset, he acted like i was a crazy person. his response is was always along the lines of 'it just didn't work, get over it'.

at least in his drunken stupor last night, he was very much not over it.

i am trying not to read too much into it, since he was, in fact, very drunk, but i also can't help but believe that there is some truth in what he was saying. and although it doesn't change anything, really at all. it does give me some peace. and a sense of security. i am still not sure whether i want to have a continued relationship with him. but at least i know that i'm not alone in missing what we did have that was great. and there were great bits. in between the not so great bits. which is, after all, why i kept on keeping on, even though there were not so great bits.

he eventually conned me into coming inside. and we shared a very extended hug. actually, we were sitting on his bed, and i was on his lap, and he was holding me pretty much like a baby. and we were saying nice things to each other (even i, the ice queen, was saying honest nice things). and it was nice. it was also dangerous. but for once, the cement wall that had been, and is now back, between us, disappeared.

he wanted to sleep with me. and he told me this.

one thing about our relationship was the stark lack of physical intimacy. we discussed this. he said that he was always worried about getting to physically intimate because he was worried that i would get too emotionally attached. i told him how much it hurt me because i thought that he wasn't attracted to me. and his constant rejection (ie. being too tired) made me incredibly insecure, something i have not yet recovered from. and also that the whole thing would've made sense if we had been more physically intimate, because i can understand being in a relationship way past the expiration date on the account of great sex. but our plutonic sleepovers just confused me more.

i think our lack of physically intimacy just contributed to the problems. there was always an invisible, impenetrable wall between us. like, we can touch, but not too close, and not for too long. and definitely don't relax. i normally love cuddling because i just totally relax and get that tingly feeling like just after a great massage. when we cuddled, i never got that, because would never allow myself to relax. i never wanted to enjoy it too much, or get too comfortable, because i knew at any instant, it would be gone. i was right. but that didn't really breed closeness between us. or that warm feeling in your heart.

we spent the majority of the time avoiding a warm heart, really.

the night went on until 3AM, alternating between him being sweet and me being sweet back, and him being sweet and me being sarcastic back. we did cuddle a bit. but it got too dangerous. and i definitely wasn't sleeping over, in his bed OR on the couch, alone OR with him. so i really was just waiting until the drunken fog cleared enough for him to tell me where he'd hidden my purse.

so in the aftermath, i am confused. but i am still at peace. and the sensations i was experiencing at the beginning of this post have subsided.

i dont want him back. i don't want him forward. i am just happy to not be so alone in missing us. i texted him today that i want to hang out soon, not drunk, just to try it out. balls in his court on that, but either way, i am at peace.

even though you and all my friends may be super disappointed in completely neglecting your sage advice (again) amd throwing myself into the gautlet.

...

in other news,

1. i am going to a kareoke party tonight with BFWII, i don't think its a date, and BFW might be coming along as well (Cocaine Anus reunion tour), but i'm excited to rock the mic with something from the britney archives, or journey

2. i did go on a date wednesday night with a co-worker of a friend, they work at an investment bank (awesome, this time in our economy), so lets call him IBanker. things of note about the date:

*he is too tall for his toyota mini-suv, which still has fingerprint dust on the side of it from when it got broken into, multiple months ago

*he is on a first name basis with the bartender at a bar i used to frequent in college a lot, but now only end up at on dates

*he is 31, but you would think by everything about him, that he is 25, i find this a turnoff. if i am going to date a 31 year old, i want one that acts like it. one that has it all figured out, not figuring it out.

*he can't dish it out, so i don't think he can take it

*i was very surprised to hear that he had a) been to bonaroo, b) been skiing in chili. i would not have fancied him a risk taker.

*there was no spark. i was disappointed, and came home and called BFW, and MM (but only because i was going to tell him i wasn't going to the show), and my dear friend Aurora.

*i was glad that he didn't try to kiss me at the end of the date. the walk to the door and two awkward hugs was enough for me.

3. my current favorite song is 'if i were a boy' by beyonce. i am a little embarassed about this fact, so i am bound and determined to listen to it so much that i get so sick of it that i hate it before it even makes it into general circulation on the radio, like i normally do to my favorite songs.