Archive | July, 2018

Left Behind

25 Jul

What he says: I’m leaving on vacation.

What I hear: I’m leaving you.

Ah, the joys of abandonment issues.  I highly recommend never developing them – because they’re lame.  As long as I can remember any time one of my boyfriends left for an extended period of time it meant they were leaving forever.  I’d like to thank my dad walking out on my family when I was little for the irrational belief.

There’s the niggling little voice who has taken residence in the back of my head.  Chanting encouraging things like, “Destined to fail.   You won’t make it through.  He’s left you behind.”  A voice I know well.  A voice I give too much credit too and don’t know how to silence.  The one who, when any gap in communication happens pops up with, “he’s lost interest in you.”  Logically, I know feelings don’t change that quickly – emotionally, I buy into every single thing the voice tells me.  I look for my escape route and plan my exit so I can do it before he does.  The end is easier if I make myself believe it was my choice to end things, that I had some control over it.

MLB is off in Europe for the next month with his kids.  Fantasy adventure dream vacation.  The absolute best for them.

Meanwhile, I’m here biting my fingernails and talking myself off the ledge for being ridiculous.  In the lead up to his leaving last week I had to keep reminding myself we weren’t saying goodbye forever, it was just goodbye for now.  I wanted our last night together to be special and magical.  He told me I was making the goodbye into a bigger deal than it had to be, we would see each other in a few weeks, it was just vacation.

The morning we said our goodbyes I struggled to keep it together, believing everything would unravel and it was the end.  He kissed me and handed me a card and told me to read it later.  Nail in coffin.  Obviously this was the dear John letter where he had written things would be different when he was back, life would change, our relationship couldn’t continue as it could.  It was over.  Because this is how my mind works.  The end is near!!  The end is always near.

I ripped open the card and wept like a tiny baby.  Phrases like “head over heels for you” and “I can’t wait for the coming months” and “I’m going to miss you.”  Swoon, right?  Everything I wanted to read.  Comforting words about how the next month was just that, a month in which we’d be apart and then we’d be back together again.  That’s good, right?  The day he left we talked a few times, we exchanged our text messages with L-bombs.  We made plans for when he’d get back.

We talked this afternoon for the first time since he left (2 days ago). And the voice says to me, “Notice how distant he seems.  You have nothing to talk about.  He’s getting bored with you.  How can you possibly keep him interested for the next month?”

How does one silence the voice?  Shut it up and make it go away?  What’s the trick?

 

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Sweet Imaginary Office Romance

16 Jul

Ah, the secret boyfriend.  So secret he doesn’t even know about it.  Is it cheating if you have a real boyfriend and a secret boyfriend at the same time?  No lines crossed – except for when you stare into his dreamy green eyes a second too long.

The Cyclist joined our team about a month ago.  When I met him during the interview he reminded me so much of Monsieur le Baguette (MLB).  Two primary differences, The Cyclist looked smashing in a pin stripe suit with suspenders (swoon with me now) and I’ve never seen MLB in a suit; and MLB has dreamy blue green eyes where The Cyclist has dreamy green eyes.  They’re both divorced.  They both have kids the same age.  They seem to have a similar sense of humor, not 100% sure of The Cyclist’s since he and I haven’t gone out and gotten drunk – yet.

Every morning he has to walk by my office and he’ll pop in to chat for a few minutes.  We were the last 2 in the office on Friday afternoon, and talk turned to happy hour and where we like to go drinking.  I had mentioned I was heading out but wasn’t feeling it since MLB and I had gone out the night before and I had woken up still drunk.  “Morning sex is the best,” he said to me.  “Ugh.  I was too hungover to do anything this morning.” I replied.  “I don’t want to know,” he responded.

Yes he fucking does.

So whatever, we went off our separate ways after agreeing to go out and grab a drink sometime.

I went home to an empty house as MLB had gone off for a boys’ weekend which was basically a 2 day bender.  Yesterday morning when we were texting he told me he was planning on leaving early and wanted to come and stay with me.  Um, yes.  We had a nice night.  I rocked it as the little spoon, he hogged the bed, he was adorable.  Usually, when he sleeps over during the week he gets up when I do and feeds Mr. Bojangles then makes me coffee.  Think the bender got to him as he was dead to the world.  When I woke him up to tell him I was leaving he tried to pull me back into bed with him.  Tempting, but dating him is expensive and I gotta pay my bills.

Sitting at my desk this morning and the emails start popping through from The Cyclist.  Questions about how the weekend went, plans for the week, etc.  A secret romance is blossoming.

Public Restrooms

6 Jul

I’ve never been one to submit to the odd grope in the toilet.  PDA?  Sure, who hasn’t done that.  And what person hasn’t found themselves HAMMERED outside a bar during her college years and ended up making out with someone then blacked out and not remembered it and then 8 people tell her the next day they saw her making out with the weird looking ginger right after midnight?  I mean, come on now, that’s a common occurrence, right??

Monsieur le Baguette has shared seedy stories from his past which include receiving oral pleasures in the middle of a packed bar and then banging the chick in a vestibule.  Romance.

Since we started dating a few months ago he’s tried, repeatedly, to romance me in public restrooms.  He’s been denied, repeatedly.  When I met his friends a few months ago he dragged me into 2 different bathrooms and suggested we do all sorts of naughty things.  I, being the absolute lady I am, politely declined and left him there on his own.

You can imagine his surprise when on Monday, while we were in a upscale establishment during our UK holiday together, I returned from the restroom and told him it was very private and we’d never get caught.  “Are you kidding me?” he asked.  “Nope, it’s very secluded, no one would even know we were in there,” I replied.  “Why are you telling me this?” he asked.  I smiled and replied, “just thought you should know, in case you wanted to go…”  He practically jumped out of his chair and dragged me back there.

Fast forward to 30 seconds later when we’re in the secluded bathroom.  A romantic setting for a rendezvous.

I’ll skip over some of the details.  Let’s just say there were pants around ankles when someone started pulling at the door handle.  “They’ll go away,” I whispered to him.  So we went back to what we were doing (or attempting to do).  A few minutes went by and we could suddenly hear a lot of people outside the bathroom.  “Shhh,” he said, “just keeping going.”  We did.  And then the rattling of the door knob started again.

Awesome.

“We’re going to have to leave,” he said.  At which point we had to come up with the plan of how we were going to exit.  We’d wait a few minutes until it quieted down a bit, then he’d walk out first, I’d skip a beat, and then follow.

Out he walked into the light of day.  “Excuse me,” I heard him say to someone as I closed the door behind him.  30 seconds later I pulled the door at the exact moment the cleaning lady was pushing the door.  She clearly didn’t realize there was anyone else in the single bathroom.  It was evident by the spectacular look of shock and horror on her face when I popped out and said, “hello,” as I brushed past her and kept walking.  Poor woman.

Absolute fucking disaster.