Now that I've finally gotten a little sleep, I can collect my thoughts a little better! Which brings me to the Great Reveal of last night.
I was at the part time job last night, and when my night was over, a guy I had accidentally been on a date with a few weeks ago called me up to hang out. I declined, and texted a guy friend to get some perspective on things. J came up, of course, and I got thinking. Him -not- saying "I love you" was bothering me more than I wanted to admit.
While I walked home, I kept thinking- it's one of my worst faults. The more I thought, the more I decided I had to come to a definitive conclusion. Was J going to be worth the investment of my time, or did I need to cut ties and systematically ruin the best thing I have ever had thus far? I started getting angry, and in a fit of 'fuck this, I need to know', I called him.
For the record, one of my other faults is, when I talk to him, I lose my nerve to an extent. He answered, and I just went about it like it was a normal phone call. He told me about his day and some of his staffing problems, I played the part of the super assertive girlfriend who would tell employees exactly what they ought to be doing (ha-ha-HURR). I kept trying to regain the angry fire that I had while the phone was ringing. I couldn't. When our conversation was wrapping up, though, I did get a bit of the spite back. My brain said 'fuck this, I'm just going to say I love him anyway. I'm tired of being this much of a pussy about it!' So I said it. And he said it back, like it was the most natural progression of our conversation. And we hung up. And I had a little celebration for myself. He probably has no idea how much it meant to me. But his nonchalant attitude tells me he thought it was totally obvious. Men, jeez. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment