As They Say In The Song, You Done Me Wrong
On New Year's around 12:30 AM, I was standing in my room, attempting to Facetime Justin so I could wish him a happy new year. As I held the phone up to center the camera, it started ringing. My ex, A, was calling.
A and I are on pretty good terms, but he has this habit of inserting inappropriate sentences into our otherwise platonic friendship. This habit rips my guts open-- not because I miss him, but because he misses me and I don't feel the same way. And the way he chooses to express it- the way he chooses to tell me he misses me- is generally inappropriate. It makes me uncomfortable twofold because I've told him more than once to stop.
So I answered the phone.
"Where are you?" He asked.
"At my parents' house."
"Come to the door."
Urgh. My anxiety boiled up like a hot pot of water. What was this about? Why didn't he warn me he was coming over?
I answered the door, trying to convince myself that he wasn't going to say something hurtful and there would be nothing to worry about. He walked up with gerbera daisies in his hand.
He gave me the flowers with no real explanation. We talked about our New Year's plans and evenings. I felt question after question pouring out of my mouth, trying to keep chatter going under my control so nothing awkward would sneak in.
"Want to play a board game or something?" I asked.
So we started playing Qwirkle. After a few turns, I could feel his eyes on me.
"I know you're not mine anymore, but I feel like you're the kind of girl who deserves flowers on New Year's." He said out of the blue.
There it was-- that's what I was trying to keep from happening. Another reminder that he hadn't let go. I told him thank you, and that what he did was sweet. It was. But it also felt painful knowing that I was still hurting him. Then things took a turn for the uncomfortable...
"I wish I could take you home with me." He said.
"Why?"
"Because it gets lonely... sleeping alone." Something along those lines, he said.
My stomach churned. More and more since our breakup, I had been feeling like most men were only out to use me. In many of my relationships, I had felt like I converted guys who previously had a foggy view of their future, into deciding that they really wanted to be married someday. To me. But over time, in many of those relationships, I started to doubt whether I had truly converted them, or if they were just used to being with me and feared change. I would still want to lay in bed talking about our interests and futures, and they would want to lay in bed and, well, talking was the last thing on their minds.
To me, it's felt like very few guys were actually engaged with what made me who I was. And it's felt like only after I break up with someone do they seem interested in finding out. It's incredibly frustrating.
So here I am, with a vase full of my favorite flowers, starting off the New Year still unsure of how to handle my ex situation without hurting either of us.
A and I are on pretty good terms, but he has this habit of inserting inappropriate sentences into our otherwise platonic friendship. This habit rips my guts open-- not because I miss him, but because he misses me and I don't feel the same way. And the way he chooses to express it- the way he chooses to tell me he misses me- is generally inappropriate. It makes me uncomfortable twofold because I've told him more than once to stop.
So I answered the phone.
"Where are you?" He asked.
"At my parents' house."
"Come to the door."
Urgh. My anxiety boiled up like a hot pot of water. What was this about? Why didn't he warn me he was coming over?
I answered the door, trying to convince myself that he wasn't going to say something hurtful and there would be nothing to worry about. He walked up with gerbera daisies in his hand.
He gave me the flowers with no real explanation. We talked about our New Year's plans and evenings. I felt question after question pouring out of my mouth, trying to keep chatter going under my control so nothing awkward would sneak in.
"Want to play a board game or something?" I asked.
So we started playing Qwirkle. After a few turns, I could feel his eyes on me.
"I know you're not mine anymore, but I feel like you're the kind of girl who deserves flowers on New Year's." He said out of the blue.
There it was-- that's what I was trying to keep from happening. Another reminder that he hadn't let go. I told him thank you, and that what he did was sweet. It was. But it also felt painful knowing that I was still hurting him. Then things took a turn for the uncomfortable...
"I wish I could take you home with me." He said.
"Why?"
"Because it gets lonely... sleeping alone." Something along those lines, he said.
My stomach churned. More and more since our breakup, I had been feeling like most men were only out to use me. In many of my relationships, I had felt like I converted guys who previously had a foggy view of their future, into deciding that they really wanted to be married someday. To me. But over time, in many of those relationships, I started to doubt whether I had truly converted them, or if they were just used to being with me and feared change. I would still want to lay in bed talking about our interests and futures, and they would want to lay in bed and, well, talking was the last thing on their minds.
To me, it's felt like very few guys were actually engaged with what made me who I was. And it's felt like only after I break up with someone do they seem interested in finding out. It's incredibly frustrating.
So here I am, with a vase full of my favorite flowers, starting off the New Year still unsure of how to handle my ex situation without hurting either of us.