how the tides have turned

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There I was stressing about not hearing from him.  I figured that he had grown disinterested or I had said something that freaked him out.  But frankly, none of this I believed.  Deep down, when the wind was calm, I felt that it had nothing to do with my insecurities and more to do with his busy schedule.  Why is it so easy to believe the bad stuff?  And then the skies opened up.  

I had just finished maybe the shittiest weekend I’ve ever lived through and I’m sitting in the Pearson Airport in Toronto; I turn on my phone.  It beeps three times, signaling three messages.  I immediately think, hey that’s strange.  I never have three voicemails.  And even though I know I’ll pay crazy high roaming charges, I can’t keep the curiosity at bay and I dial in to listen to them.  Message one: at first i think hey, it’s Joe.  But then I think, it can’t be.  So I’m listening to him talk and about 30 seconds into it, I realize that it IS him.  The largest grin my face can hold forms on my face.  I loose the signal and dial back in.  It takes me to the second message, it’s him – again (still grinning).  He’s apologizing because he got cut off because he ran out of time.  I hit save (obviously) and listen to the third message – it’s him.  Again. 

I had said previously that a line from Pride and Prejudice continued to ring in my head, that love is a fragile flower that needs encouragement.  But now, it’s not me I’m worried about.  It’s not encouragement that I need.  It’s a concern that I may not be giving HIM enough.  He’s laid himself on the line, he’s emailed, called twice, emailed and called again.  If it were reversed, I’d feel like a total douche bag.  I’d be cringing every single moment, thinking I was a total idiot…..

Now I have to figure out where the line between encouraging him is and me making a fool of myself.  Why must these games be played?  Why can’t I just lay it all on the line?

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As I say in my whiniest voice….

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…..I wanna talk to JOOODDDYY!

 

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

 

I thought I could, in a cerebral way, rise above these non-cerebral thoughts I had about him.  But as the days go by, and I do not email him and he’s not online to chat….there isn’t a correlation between a decrease in communication and therefore a decrease in wanting to communicate.  In fact – there might be an INCREASED correlation between not communicating and the desire for contact.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!

fuuuuuuuuuuck!