Later on that day, I did get to rest a little by taking a nap. While my thoughts wandered into an unknown place in my mind, I started remembering certain moments from the past I had somewhat forgotten. Tears came down as I thought about them and tried to push them away.
I debated yet again if I should share them with him. A part of me felt I would look desperate if I did, while the other reminded me that, as he recently told me, “it doesn’t change anything.”
Me: “I don’t know why I’m remembering this, but there was a time when I was walking to school. You came down the street in your 2-door Fiat with the top off as always. You offered me a ride for the remainder of the trip. Was so nervous I didn’t say a word.” (And that I sat properly with my hands resting on my lap. Didn’t want the ride to end so quickly, but was more concerned about what other people would think when they saw us.)
“There was another occasion in the same car when you grabbed my hand and placed it in the shift stick. I took my hand away after some time. You then grabbed it again and placed it back. This time you held it with your hand so it would stay” (which means we were holding hands while taking a drive).
“I’m not sure if this last was the same day when you looked at me closely, made a hand gesture of moving your index finger towards you and saying ‘come here’ to me. I did with a face off ‘what?’ and then you gave me a big kiss.
The truth is that after all these years that I’ve had my own 2-door vehicle, have never been able to keep my hand off entirely when shifting gears and thinking of you when driving.
Who would have said that I would see you again. And that I would forget about you. And now you appeared again. And knowing that no matter what I feel, like you said correctly, nothing will change. Such is life.”
He made no comments to any of this. And I wasn’t expecting any, because that’s how he is. He’s one of those people that react to something by not reacting at all.
Hate to admit that the last day I saw him caused my inner-self to become unbalanced. And that’s because he’s always kept a distance much like a wall between us.
When at the apartment, when he kneeled in front of me and looked straight into my eyes, and I said that I was at peace with us (or that I’m over you), that wall came down upon him placing his hands on my knee.
He realized he was about to lose me and decided to enter my world for the first time. But that didn’t last long. When he said ‘I don’t know what to do with you’, he essentially regressed to his old self of distancing and leaving things in a limbo.
He had the chance of changing everything and didn’t take it. He made the choice of staying with the blonde.
As the weeks progressed, I kept some communication with him. I remembered out of the blue that his birth date was basically mine in reverse with a month difference.
The last time I contacted him was for the long summer weekend. Then the hurricane warnings and my birthday occurred. Nothing happened from his part considering we live on the same state.
As the storm battled my city and I survived many days without power, I took the time to allow the winds of change to set in and find my balance once more. And just like everything that got washed away, so did him and everything he represents.
He might have said things don’t change, but I did. With myself. And him. I took him out of my life with the same strength I did before. It’s the calm after the storm. It surely is.
Update: A week after the hurricane hit, on a Saturday, around 7:30 pm, I get the following text.
Him: “Hope you weathered the storm ok. Just got power and have been working on the property all day.”
I replied with a first text of summarizing that I was unable to celebrate my birthday because it was the day before the storm reached my area; that didn’t stay in my apartment during the event; that neither my home or car suffered damages; that my employer reopened the office mid-week, and I was presently getting up-to-date.
The second one read: “I’m glad you’re fine and hope your things get back to normal soon.”
Him: “Thanks. You too.”
So there it is. No surprise here, as usual.
He didn’t reach out when Maria hit, asking me how my mom was in the island, considering that because of me going to the beach with her, is how I met him, and it’s the place we both grew up and went to school together.
I know he’s not obliged to do anything. But it’s not right either. Simply said: he doesn’t care. And that’s the last memory I’ll have of him before I sign off from him for good.
“Although there’s pain in my chest, I still wish you the best, with a ‘forget you’.” – Cee Lo Green – Forget You
I kept seeing Bob after the boating (and bad comment) day. Surprisingly, I managed to put the incident aside, which is a first for me.
Fact is, Bob was a contradiction within himself. Up until then he had been respectful and well-mannered, always asking me how I would feel about doing anything, including holding my hand one night when we went out to eat. And then the incident happened.
It was like a dual personality in which the second gets quickly triggered by something, to then going back to your original one in an instance.
Regarding holding hands, it wasn’t exactly smooth sailing for me either. It was another thing I hadn’t done in quite some time, but decided to do it to find out how it now felt.
Honestly, it was a mid-point reaction for me; it didn’t felt as great as I hoped for, nor something I wouldn’t do again with him.
There was an obvious six degrees of separation within me towards Bob when we took a stroll together one night. I even sat across from him at a restaurant table, not side by side. I was close to him, but not that close in reality.
Heck, maybe my mind still had his awful comment on high alert, making me pull away as a subconscious self-defense mechanism.
All the while neither Bob and I had commented to anyone that we were dating, not even the couple friend of mine.
Eventually Bob showed the husband the selfie of our first night out. Bob said the guy reacted with surprise that there was a female in the picture. Bob then told him to look closer at the photo and when realizing who it was, he then reacted with more surprise.
But what was surprising to me was that I was sure my GF would call me immediately upon learning about it, which didn’t happen. There was no mention of it, even on one time she and I went to dinner by ourselves.
Bob even said that he had suggested to my GF’s husband that we should all go out to eat together, to which he agreed, but a tentative date was not set.
From this point forward, this is how I remember the next sequence of events. I met with Bob for dinner on a Thursday because he had plans the following evening to meet with his children.
It had been a long work week for me and after getting a slight buzz from a very cold beer, I blurt out to him, “do you have any hair left on your head?” (Hey, he had the nerve of saying something out of line and now it’s my turn, don’t you think?)
He gave me a puzzled look and responded that he still had some, but that he preferred to just shave it off every day.
I kept staring at him and felt like asking, “why?? don’t you miss having a full set?” Oops, talking about having a bad hair day.
Saturday came and I was watching the Olympics, as a female athlete from home was to compete for the Gold medal, the first one for us.
I spoke with Bob sometime before it and his tone of voice sounded very disconnected. At no point did he invited me to his home or showed any enthusiasm when I told him about the match. It was like his alter ego had showed up again.
The game happened; we won. I cheered and cried like a baby, even took a video of the medal ceremony. I called Bob shortly after.
“Did you see it??? We won!!! OMG, this is so awesome…” I kept on and on. He listened to me, but was totally emotionless. There was never an instance of him saying something like “congrats” or “great” that would equal the immense joy of the moment. He didn’t give a shit about it.
He had disappointed me a second time, but I let it pass again because of how great I was feeling.
I believe I called him the next day just to say hello. I even asked him if he wanted some company, to which he replied, “I’m doing laundry”.
Damn dude, you probably wash your clothes in cold water because I just felt getting soaked with that right now. Do you know what a ‘fabric softener’ is by any chance?
I didn’t say anything again, but it was the third time that he was a dick.
I was so upset I even consulted with my bestie (please see The Ex-Friend story) to get her opinion.
“Guys nowadays have no fucking idea of what they want,” said she. “That being said, how can they have a relationship with anyone? I know this situation sucks, but like I have told you before, better now than later. I think this guy’s problem is that he has E.D.”
“Make it more emotional dysfunction,” replied I. “It happens all the time. It all starts well and one day to the next they disappear without warning. I know the distance is a big issue for me and most probably would have become a decisive factor in the long run, but if you don’t want to keep going forward, just say it and we’ll part ways.”
“That’s why they’re dysfunctional. They’re using the wrong head to do anything,” continued she.
Whatever the reason, I wrapped around my own head the thought that this had come to an end. Even if this was bound to fail, it’s still upsetting that it’s a repeated pattern with the guys that have become present in my life.
I’m being flexible, open, letting things go with the flow, not take things so personal as my GF’s have told me, but there’s still these ‘spots’ with my connections that won’t go away even with the best bleach.
So what I’m supposed to do now? Switch detergents? Could be, but one thing I will do for sure is this: Read the label before using.