I Was Curious. So Shoot Me.

19 Aug

I was going to preface this entry with a don’t judge me clause, but fuck it.  I’M judging me.  Sooo…do what you must.

So when it came to M, and the now infamous phone call, I did what I needed to do to make myself better.  I cried for a day (or two).  I drank a whole bottle of red wine and cussed him out to whomever would listen.  I hurt my shoulder again (don’t knock it…it took my mind off of him!)  He hasn’t been the first thing on my mind when I woke up in the morning.  Definitely still not thinking about dating, but I was better.

Until…

A couple of days ago, around noon, my phone rang.  M’s name popped up on my screen.  I had really struggled with deleting it, but I didn’t.  I told myself it was in case I needed my mechanic down the road.  I can talk myself into just about anything…it’s a talent…

So I answer the phone.  Hello?  No answer.  Heeellllloooo?  Still no answer.
E:  M, I know it’s you.  Why are you calling me?
M:  I have a favor to ask you.
E:  So ask (I figured it was going to be the money I owed him for the parts for my car).
M:  Never mind.  You won’t do it.
E:  Why don’t you ask, and then I will tell you if I will do it or not.
M:  It’s OK, forget I asked.  Just go do what you were going to do today.  I will figure something else out.
E:  JUST TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK YOU WANT!
M:  I have to go to XYZ to pick up a truck I bought.  And I was wondering if you want to go with me.

Silence

M:  I will pay for everything.  Food, gas, a room if we can’t drive anymore.  I thought I would ask you, we could drive and talk.  But if you don’t want to, I understand.
E:  Ummm…I’ll go.
M:  You will?  OK, I will call you in an hour.

I hung up the phone and contemplated what I had just agreed to.  It’s a nine-hour drive.  One-way.  Before I could get too far into those thoughts, M called again.

Esme, is this something you can do?  Will you be OK being in the car with me, being around me?  I don’t want things to get worse between us.  But I would like to see you.

I assured him I will be fine, and that this is mostly fueled by the fact I really needed something to do.  Being stuck in my house with one good arm and pain meds isn’t as much fun as it sounds.  Shocking, I know.  I think I would have gone with the Devil.  And I was wondering if that was what I was indeed doing.

I packed a small overnight bag, just in case.  I drove to his place, pulled into his driveway, and took a deep breath.  This is just a trip with a friend.  This is just a trip with a friend.  This is just a trip with a friend.  My car door opened, startling me out of my centering-my-chi rant.  I looked up at the intruder, and a pair of light green eyes were smiling down at me.  M helped me out of my truck, then grabbed my bag from the back.  He directed me to his car.  I stopped and stared at the front seat, working up my courage.  Esme, are you alright?  I assured him I was good.  I got in, buckled up, and we set off.

We fell into conversation very easily.  We talked, we laughed.  The silences were not uncomfortable, but relaxing.  We talked like we haven’t since we met each other.  I asked about his family, and we talked about mine.  We talked about our childhoods.  We talked about politics and religion. We talked about a friend of his that has been cheating on his girlfriend for months.

E:  Do you think C is going to go straight?
M:  He says he is.
E:  Do you think you could go straight?  (I was teasing when I said this…smile on my face and all.  I know it isn’t something to tease about, but the situation is just fucked up.  I have to laugh about it).
M:  I doubt it.  I think about you all the time.

I couldn’t respond to this, so I kept silent and looked out the window.  M put his hand on my leg, and we drove in silence for a bit.

E:  I was really surprised to hear from you today, M.  Even more surprised you asked me along on this little trip.
M:  I’m surprised, too.
E:  Are you glad, too?
M:  Very much so.  I knew we could get along.  I knew we would laugh and have fun.  And I am glad I got to see you.

Occasionally the talk would come back to us, but it was never anything heavy.  It was truly just an easy-going drive.  We stopped for dinner and joked about how we looked like we were on the edge of Deliverance.  We laughed when a man in his sixties tried to pick me up.  A small disaster struck when I was walking out of a gas station. Someone slammed the door in my face-I thought they had seen me and would hold it open.  NOPE.  I put out my arms to avoid getting my nose broken, and my shoulder popped out.  DAMN…I knew I should have worn my sling.  I yelled out and doubled over in pain.  M heard me and ran over from his car.  He tried to help me stand, but fuck if he didn’t grab the wrong shoulder.  He inadvertently popped it back in, causing another yelp of pain.  Since I wasn’t going to have to drive for another four hours, I took some pain medicine and relaxed while he drove.

We finally picked up his new truck after the 23 year-old barely dressed hottie he bought it from tried to cause drama.  Small tangent here:  When I was 23 I wore clothes, and didn’t offer sexual favors for money.  But I digress.

By the time we hit the road, it was after one in the morning.  My shoulder was hurting me, I was tired, and we were still seven hours from home.  I finally texted him:  I need to stop.

After some back and forth, I agreed to drive another half hour to a college town, where hotels would probably be cheaper.  We found a small place, and I fell into bed fully dressed.  M stripped down to his boxer-briefs (way sexy, might I add), and climbed in next to me.  I made no move toward him, even when he put his hand on my hip.  Are you alright, E?  I told him I was, that I was just exhausted.  I wanted to turn around, and take cover under his arms.  But I didn’t.  Instead I climbed out of bed and put on my pajamas.  I got back under the covers, my back toward him.  His hand found his way back to my hip.  I sighed, and snuggled further into the bed.  He wrapped his arm around my waist and slammed me into his chest.  I wiggled to make myself comfortable, and that was the kiss of death.  I don’t need to write what happened next.

The next morning we got up, showered, dressed, and headed out on our way.  An hour into the drive we stopped for breakfast/lunch.  After we ordered our food, I took a deep breath and dove right in.

E:  Soo…what happens next?
M:  I don’t know.
E:  We really crossed a line last night.
M:  I did?
E:  No, we.  I could have said no.  I didn’t.  I’m just as much at fault as you are.
M:  This is true.  I don’t know what’s next.  I know I love you.  I know I want to spend time with you.  I am just having a hard time making it work.
E:  You made so many promises to me before.  And none you delivered on.  I have to wonder if you have been telling me what you think I want to hear, or the truth.
M:  Do you think I lied to you?
E:  I didn’t say that.
M:  I don’t need to lie to you to get sex.  I can get laid if that’s what you want to hear (he was angry).
E:  I put my hands on the table, leaned forward, and got in his face.  I just wanted to know if what you said was genuine.  And this is a hell of a lot more than just sex to you, so don’t you DARE sit there and tell me that it’s JUST.  SEX. I can get laid just as easy as you can.

M looked at me for a long minute, measuring my reaction.

M:  You’re right, Esme.  It isn’t just sex.  It’s a lot more than sex.  And that is what makes it so hard.  I want to have more time to spend with you.  I want to do things with you.  It hurts me when you ask when I can see you again, knowing I have next to no free time.  I thought it was better if I just cut you out all together.  It didn’t work.  What is it you want?
E:  I want you to not call me tomorrow and tell me you can’t do this anymore.
M:  I won’t.
E:  And I want no more promises, unless you intend to keep them.
M:  I understand.
E:  And I am not saying I am down with this anymore.  I’m not sure I can do it.  I like having you in my life.  I like that we get along.  I like the way I feel when I am around you.  But I also liked that you WEREN’T around all the time.  I liked that I could have my own life without you.  I liked that you don’t question what I am doing.  I was OK with all of it.  And you killed it.
M:  I know.  I still can’t promise you time.
E:  I know you are busy.  That was never an issue.
M:  How about this.  What if we just take it as it comes?  What if we can just agree to be relaxed about it?  Take a ‘wait-and-see’ approach?
E:  As long as you know that I won’t sit around and wait for you.  I’m not waiting for you to call.  And I am done waiting for you to figure out your shit.  If you can understand that, then we are all good.
M:  I do love you.

I just smiled, and finished my meal.  I love him, too, but I couldn’t tell him.  I’m not sure if he caught that or not.

M:  I still want to take you out for that dinner.  As long as you want to go.
E:  We will see.
M:  And you know you still owe me for the work I did on your car.
E:  I am not paying you for that.
M:  What?  I don’t think I heard you right.
E:  Yes you did.  I am not paying you.  I cried over you.  NOT PAYING.
M:  Is that how it’s going to be?  I do work on your car, then you cry so you don’t have to pay?  I see how it is.
E:  Glad we have an understanding.

We finished the drive without incident.  By the time I drove his new truck into his driveway, I was in tears.  My shoulder was so incredibly painful.  He loaded my bags into my truck, and gave me a long hug.

M:  I am so glad I asked you to come.  And I am so glad you went with me.  I had a great time.  I truly did.

I was in so much pain that I could do nothing but give a half-smile.  I didn’t even say good-bye. I left and drove straight home.  After I was properly medicated, I texted him and apologized for my bitchiness.  I also told him I had a great time as well.

His response?  You’re not, and I’m glad.

That made me smile.

Well…shit.  Just…shit.

Love, Esme

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6 Responses to “I Was Curious. So Shoot Me.”

  1. MyDatingHangovers August 20, 2011 at 2:13 pm #

    Curious? Is that what they call it nowadays? 🙂

    Ah Esme… You weren’t horny (in pain, yes), being with him again didn’t help (you’re probably thinking even more now) and the situation is even more confusing (thank you men, they always come through) but it is what you needed at that moment.

    Good for you.

    Just… Try not to think so much about what happens next. I’m glad there aren’t anymore tears right now.

    • Esme August 20, 2011 at 2:58 pm #

      No, no more tears 🙂
      I got to say what I needed to say. How often do you actually get that kind of closure? He said things he wanted to say. In a way I am actually less confused. For some reason I am much more OK with ‘Let’s just take it one day at a time’.
      I am glad I went.

  2. Nikki B August 24, 2011 at 10:36 am #

    Ugh.

    OK. I think you needed to go for “closure” or to say what you needed to. Sure.

    But. I also think you went because you… needed him.

    He talks a good game, Esme, but I’ve changed my mind about him. I really and truly believe open relationships can only work with A LOT of trust, understanding and BOUNDARIES. He hasn’t exactly established trust (or my trust anyway), he’s has told you things and then backed out (repeatedly), and he refuses (yes, refuses, even if he’s being nice about it) to allow for ANY boundaries. EVERYTHING is on his terms, and his alone.

    It’s not that I don’t think he really and truly cares deeply for you, or that you don’t have some seriously awesome sex. It’s just… here’s the thing. Not all bad things involved bad people. Just because he’s going to hurt you over and over again, doesn’t make him a complete shithead. It might make him an ass, and stupid, and more than a lil selfish, but… he’s not a bad person, and it doesn’t make his feelings fake.

    All that said – I think he’s still going to hurt you, regardless of how little he wants to. I mean, you know what they say about the road to hell and all those good intentions or whatnot.

    I mean, I’ve been there. Desperate to keep someone in my life because of how I felt about them. No matter what it took. It still never worked.

    I think you have GOT to keep in touch with YOU. If this keeps hurting you, you have to end it.

    I’ll wait.

    • Esme August 24, 2011 at 12:41 pm #

      Nikki, you are 100% right. Hence the reason I have not talked to him, or seen him, since.

      The more removed I get from the situation, the more I already realized what you said. His inability to figure out his life will do nothing but harm me in the end. I am still glad I went. I said what I needed to say, and there were no more tears. I wish I could do that with everyone I date! But if I am stupid enough to let him back into my life, I have no one to blame but myself. And me crying over guys just IS NOT a good look for me.

      • Nikki B August 24, 2011 at 8:27 pm #

        Ha! Oh, honey. The other thing I’ve learned? We’re all going to figure shit out at our own pace and we are all going to do the thing that is hardest in our own time.

        I have REPEATEDLY put myself in a bad situation on purpose, or gone to “talk” more, simply because I wasn’t ready to let things go. Don’t beat yourself up for being human and trying. I mean, that’s the other side of the coin, right? Really and truly knowing something… so you don’t spend your time wondering. You do what you have to do to get there, too.

        So. Now you know. You did what you had to, said what you had to. Maybe it wasn’t truly helpful to letting go of your pain, really, but it… it was still *necessary*. Know what I mean?

        Don’t blame yourself. You know yourself. You learned. Take that and go forward. Don’t even allow blame to be something that keeps you looking back, or causing you more pain than is needed.

        XOXO. Hang in there woman. Hope the shoulder is getting better.

        • Esme August 24, 2011 at 9:28 pm #

          The most important thing I feel like I got from it? All that time ago, when I didn’t/couldn’t tell him how I felt, became one of my biggest regrets. And I HATE having regrets. Life is way too short for ‘what if’s’. I was kicking myself for at least not telling him my feelings, and letting it go from there.

          This time, I did that. I let him know what I was feeling, and what I wanted. And then I walked away. There is NO WAY he could ever question what I feel. So that regret from all that time ago, is gone. My heart is lighter. Did I *need* to do it? Probably not. But I had to. For me.

          So now I can focus on all of the other boys out there 😀

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