The end of creepy guy

Being harrassed is not fun, and the creepy guy was really starting to piss me off. After almost a week of ignoring him, he was still bothering me. I confided in the Heterophobe: "I want to send him a text or something just telling him to fuck off, but I don't want to contact him ever again."

He responded that "He'll probably just think you're flirting with him." I laughed. "No, seriously. He'll think it's some kind of game."

So I ignored creepy guy, hoping that the third unreturned call would be enough to give this guy some clarity. But wishful thinking rarely works, and this was no exception. Last night, while drinking with my roommates, I heard my phone chime with a text. I was hoping it was The Ex, but instead it was the creepy guy.

"Hey... give me a call... i found a roommie, but i wanted to talk to you about the film."

I had a small outburst of frustration that attracted the interest of my friends. "What's wrong?"

"Creepy guy just texted me! Why won't he go the fuck away?!"

I then got my friend, Nice Guy, to text him for me. After a minute or two of deliberation over word choice, we came up with "Please stop trying to contact me."

Creepy guy wrote back: "Ouch. So i was a creep. But i'm not. Promise. At least let me explain how i could be such a jerk..."

My friends all drunkenly booed him, and Nice Guy wrote back "No."

Creepy guy then wrote me such a long text that it took two messages. "Lol. I deserve that, but don't blow off the job just cause i have absolutely no class. I felt comfortable w/you. Look. I'll have my website up in the next few days and you can decide then whether you'll let me make it up to you... c'mon. The website is [url]"

Hopefully he'll stop contacting me now. 'Cause this thing is getting way old.

Best valentine ever

After drinking a good amount of wine, I was on my way to bed last night when I decided to text The Ex. Even though we're not together, we still text and talk a lot. In general, he usually calls me and he had already texted me a "Happy Valentine's day" earlier, so I thought I'd shoot him something. I wrote "I miss you" and went to sleep.

He called a couple hours later and I answered in a daze. "I miss you a lot too," he said. We went through the usual "I wish you were here so we could be together", and even though they were all honest, they were starting to wear me down. Okay, you wish I was there. You want to be with me. How does this help us? After a few more minutes, there was a pause and I started to get off the phone.

"Well, I should probably go back to sleep. Unless there's something else you want to say." I was hoping for some kind of conclusion that would make a repeat of this conversation unnecessary.

"Well actually, yeah there is something else."

"Okay, what?"

"Well, I kind of have feelings for this other girl." My stomach dropped a little, but I wasn't as disappointed as I thought I might be.

"Okay... so...?" What did he want me to say?

He explained to me how difficult this was for him. "I don't know what to do. I want to be with you at some point. I don't want to lose you."

"Well I can't guarantee that you won't lose me," I told him. Just the truth: that's all I could do at this point.

"I don't think I'm going to do anything about this other girl, I really don't think I am."

Great. Was this supposed to be comforting? All I felt was lost: weren't we already broken up? It was easy to be "friends" when neither of us was seriously thinking about pursuing someone else. But now, I realized how much would change if he ended up dating her or anyone else. The text I had sent earlier? That wouldn't be happening. Saying "I love you" at the end of a conversation? Not anymore. Even having a conversation? Sadly, not so certain.

We discussed all this, and he continued to tell me how important I am to him. "Ever since we've broken up, nothing seems to make sense to me. Even interacting with my friends is different. I feel like everything is falling apart and you were the best part of my life. I don't want to lose you as someone to talk to... I love just talking to you."

Whoa. Hold on. Stop the bus. Doesn't that sound a little bit like an "I want you back" speech? So he's mixing "I love you and want to have a future together" with "I might date someone else"?

After we had both speculated about the whole situation and arrived at no conclusion, I simply said "I don't know what to tell you. It's not my choice to make, so I'm just not going to worry about it any more than I have to."

"Well, what kinds of things do you want me to tell you about?" He asked. The classic question we had always debated back when we had considered an open relationship. Where do you draw the line? Do you want to hear about them kissing or falling in love? Or imagine it all anyway? Another question for which I had no answer.

"I obviously don't want you to lie to me, but it's really up to you. I don't want to have to ask, but I'm sure I'll think about it every time we talk. Just tell me whatever you want to."

As the conversation came toward a natural end, he stalled. "I just don't want to get off the phone, because everything will change."

"Well, there's nothing we can do about that." Part of me didn't want to get off the phone either, but a bigger part was scolding myself for staying on the phone with someone I'm not dating when I needed to get sleep. When we got off the phone, he said "I love you" and I returned the favor before falling asleep.


After reasoning through some of the situation today, I still didn't come to many conclusions. Except that I'm tired of dealing with this and that it's pretty unfair to pull me into this decision-making process. Luckily, I've closed myself off from being too vulnerable about it. He's going to date someone if he wants to, no matter what I tell him.

And then I cackled when I saw that I had another facebook message from The Musician:

"hey there, i'm back safe and sound from south america. at the moment i'm on tour in washington state but i'll be back on monday for about a week and a half or so. wanna chill sometime in there?

have fun in the snow!"

Where's the action?

Valentine's day is tomorrow. I know what you're thinking: "Why aren't you dating?"

... you were thinking that, weren't you?

Okay but if you weren't, now you are.


Well my friends, I'm not going to lie. The men at my school are gay. Gay or socially inept. Gay, socially inept, or taken. And sometimes all three.

I've been trying this new thing though, called "shopping for sluttier clothes." Now before you tell me that I shouldn't have to look slutty to get a man's attention, I should clarify: I don't have to. I can wear some pretty boring clothes and get attention (especially if I sing really loud in the subway. And even then, some of those sidelong glances are pretty lusty). But if men are going to gaze anyway, why not look absolutely delicious and make them sorry they're not getting off at my stop? Honestly, it's the only cruel thing I'm capable of doing to strangers. And lately, I feel like doing bitchy things.

Other than fantasizing about men fantasizing about me, though, I've been pretty celibate. Some of you might be thinking "That's okay! You don't need a man, you just need a vibrator!"

To you, I say "I don't have a vibrator." And even though I do have fingers, I forget about them. I'm a sexual person and all, but every time I think to myself "I'm going to masturbate tonight!" I end up forgetting. When you have to remind yourself to masturbate, I have a feeling you're not really into it.

I did have phone sex with The Ex a couple weeks ago. I don't really regret it, and I probably wouldn't have done it if I wasn't drunk at the time. Oh yeah, The Ex! What's with that? I haven't mentioned him in... a month? Well, he calls me almost every day and we talk. It's not awkward and I'm not obsessed with him and I don't notice it when he doesn't call. I think those are all good things, and I'm glad we have what appears to be an understanding. And I'm glad we're not together. Now I don't feel guilty for lusting after the cute boss in my office or putting Adam Brody on my desktop.

It's nice to be single. Happy Valentine's Day!

Asking permission

As I recently mentioned, The Ex invited me to go home with him for the weekend. Not only would I like to see him before I go back to school, but I recently moved with my parents to an island filled with doll shops and retired people. The view is gorgeous, but my boredom is rising. I see this two days as a vacation filled with The Ex's endlessly amusing family and hopefully some nice cuddling.

I realized that it might be hard to convince my mom that I'm ready to leave for two days, since I just had surgery a week ago. And at the beginning of the week, I was equally concerned. At that point I had to be served every meal and got up only to pee and go back to bed.

By Wednesday, it was a different story. I was making my own breakfast, sitting at the table for dinner, and off the heavy duty painkillers. Deeming myself able to leave, I popped the question to my mother. My aunt and uncle (two doors down the road) had come over for dinner, and I caught my mom alone for a moment in the office.

"So, I've been invited to spend a couple days at The Ex's this weekend, and I'd like to go" I started. "What do you think?"

She looked startled. "Do you really think that's a good idea?" she asked, and proceeded to orally wag her finger at me for visiting an ex. "You seem very off-and-on with him. I don't understand why you won't just break up and move on."

I explained to her as best I could the status of my relationship with The Ex. (Summary: If we didn't have to deal with the distance, we would be together (maybe not forever, but at least right now). So since I'm here, it'd be nice to see him once or twice before going back to school.) Mom was not enthused.

Neither was I. "Whether I continue seeing him or not, I feel that it's my decision to make" I said reasonably. "Some relationships end abruptly and cleanly, and other people decide to remain friends after they break up. There isn't one way to do it." I couldn't believe I had to explain my behavior to my mother; I'm twenty years old. If we hadn't moved and I hadn't just had surgery, I easily could have simply told her I was leaving for the weekend. It felt like a formality to ask her at all.

Finally, she moved on to the more valid argument: "I don't think it's a good idea, since you just had surgery. What if you injured yourself?"

I explained to her that this was why I had waited to ask her; I wanted to make sure it was something my leg could handle. "I'm walking without crutches, I can take care of myself at this point. We're going to be sitting indoors for the whole time." I knew it would be just as relaxing to hang out at his house as it had been at ours; the scheduled events included football games and the 24 premiere. And it's not like I couldn't ask for a favor if I wasn't feeling well.

She briefly went back to her former argument, the emotional one. I stopped her. "What is this about, mom? Is it about my health or you disapproving of my relationship with The Ex?"

She was caught. In a wild conceptual leap, she said "Remember when you were there that night, playing with the dogs and you hurt yourself?" Two and a half years ago, I had run into a huge rock in their backyard because there were no lights on and had to get stitches in the emergency room.

"What's your point?" I asked, confused.

"Well, my point is... you could do it again!"

I wanted to laugh at her. Instead I said, "Mom, it's not like I hurt myself before I started playing with the dogs. It's a completely different situation. I'm not going to play with the dogs at all. I'm not trying to sabotage my recovery, okay?"

After a minute more, my mom excused herself to tend to the company. I joined my mom and aunt for a game of Upwords, and felt triumphant for acting completely normal. I wasn't spiteful or rude; I made jokes and laughed with my aunt while my mom ignored us.

I took a quick bathroom break while we were playing, and as I rounded the corner on my return I heard my aunt ask, "Well do you think they're sleeping together?"

Unfortunately, it was too late to hide and listen, so I pretended I hadn't heard anything and joined them. Shame on mom, but fortunately I had already discussed The Ex situation with my aunt and she was on my side (my uncle and her had gone through something similar before they got married).

After my relatives left, I watched Grey's Anatomy with my mom. As it ended, Mom said "Well, I'm going to bed," but made no move to get up. She was leaving the next day for the weekend, so I knew I would have to refresh her memory soon.

"When do you want to talk about the visit?" I asked innocently.

After a few reasonable questions about timing, she very undramatically relented. So undramatically that I have no idea what she said. Still, success! I love having the better argument, especially with my mom.

This post is about me

After my surgery, I saw it as my goal to sit on my butt for days on end. Luckily, this was also doctor-recommended, so I could easily justify such a decision. The one unfortunate piece is that sitting on my ass actually hurts after a while. The few times I looked in the mirror, I could see the deep lines imprinted in my skin as a result of simply not moving for hours. And my heels ended up hurting because I was sitting with my feet up for hours on end. My heels! Who would have thought? Ah, I learn new things every day.

Today I haven't taken any percocet at all, and it's a nice change of pace to feel alert for the first time in days. I hung on for a few hours this morning to my 'I'm recovering' card, until I got a call from The Ex asking if I can hang out when he's back in town this weekend. That's when I remembered the perks of being recovered. (Of course, I was also aware of them when I wasn't able to walk or shower with ease, but this was another reminder.) So I stopped asking for favors and walked around a little more. Now I feel like my goal is to prove to my parents that I'm healthy enough to leave for two days. Unfortunately, I can't do that and insist that they bring me juice. Too bad.

When I started taking less painkillers, I started reading more. There was a stack of books on the table next to my recovery chair (aka my ass buddy) that I intend to read before I go back to school. I finished reading Catch-22 finally, and with a twinge of guilt I selected a 'fun' book, called Stupid and Contagious. I read it in two days. Though I was taking less painkillers than before, I was still taking enough to alter my state of mind.. that's my excuse at least. Because I really liked the book, the style of writing and all that... and now I kind of want to be one of the characters.

Shut up, I know.

The thing is, we already have so much in common that it's almost like she is me. (Though I am better, of course) For example: I would definitely buy three donuts at once, no question about it. Or was it four... well, I would eat four too (my max is 8, I think). I have also looked up diseases and thought that I had them, only to find out that I was wrong (apparently I'm not bipolar? whatever..). Most importantly, I am a horrible waitress. Just awful. I could be a fabulous waitress if I only had two tables; give me three and I will freak out.

However, she also got the guy in the end, and she got a dog. So far, it's not a perfect match. *sigh* Unfortunately, I am not the main character of Stupid and Contagious. Consolation prize: I am the main character in my blog!

I have an excuse. Everyone else does not.

Sorry for the lack of posting while I recover from my surgery!

I will try to write a post while I'm high on percocet... just for you.

PS. The reason The Ex did not return the favor in the last post is because I was on my period. He returned it later... I'll tell that story... later. Maybe.

One of those breakups part two

For part one, see below or click the link.

I drove The Ex to the video store where he was supposed to pick up some game rentals for the new X-Box. On the way, we talked about how we had broken the news of our split to our family.

"That's one thing, my family loves you" he reminded me. It was a consolation prize that almost consoled me.

We found the games and as we waited in line, we stood a foot or so apart. "See, this is the thing that bothers me," he confided suddenly. "I should be holding your hand right now, or have my arm around you."

"I know..." I wanted to tell him to do it anyway, because it just seemed right. Instead, we stepped to the front of the line and rented the games. It was clear that he was respecting my wishes, even though it was very hard for him.

Back in the car, I said "The problem with 'dating' right now is that we haven't had time to adjust to being broken up, so it wouldn't really be dating... it would be the same as our old relationship."

He agreed with me. I parked the car outside his house. "I mean, I wouldn't go so far as to have sex with you, but I don't think either one of us thinks that being affectionate means we're a couple again."

We held hands, still sitting in the car. He leaned over and hugged me, a real hug this time. We looked at each other and said a few more things. Then he sighed and mumbled something under his breath.

"What?" I asked.

"I really want to kiss you," he told me, "but I don't want to confuse you."

"Kissing you isn't going to make me think that we're getting back together," I assured him. Still, kissing seemed far beyond hand-holding and hugging. It was more than affection. I couldn't decide whether I should kiss him or not, and though he was close to me, he wasn't making the first move. It was my decision to make. Before I could actually rationalize any decision, I kissed him.

He leaned his seat back and said "come here." I squeezed onto the seat with him and we cuddled and made out.

"You know I want to be with you," he said as we held each other, his voice quiet. I looked at his face; it looked sad. "If you lived here, I would want to be with you. Why can't you just move here?"

"I know," I whispered, resting my head against him. How fucking unfair.

We went back inside and I stayed for a while as everyone watched TV or played cards. The screensaver on his computer came on and a bunch of pictures of me popped up. He pointed at them as they came up. Yeah, he's totally over me. I smiled.

At about 11:30, I told everyone I was leaving. I said goodbye to the family and The Ex walked me out to my car. "What are you doing for lunch tomorrow?" He asked.

"I have a 45 minute lunch, it's at 11:30."

"I'll come visit you for it," he promised.

We kissed each other goodbye and I went home.

I woke up to my phone, and only as I looked at the caller ID did I realize that it wasn't my alarm. It was The Ex. "Hello?"

"Hey, I'm coming over."

"What? Why?"

"Because I want to spend one last night with you in your house." (I'm moving by the way)

"What time is it?"

"About 3am. I'm halfway there, so I'll be there soon."

Great. I took out my sexy retainer and walked down to meet him. Actually, I was pleasantly surprised at how determined he was to see me again, even though it was very inconvenient (the roads were icy). When he arrived I ushered him inside and pulled him up the stairs into my bed. I was all set to go to sleep, and then of course ended up giving him a blowjob (by the way, I can't resist penis).

One of those breakups

It was the one night The Ex said he would be back in town, and though we had made plans to see each other weeks before, he was avoiding me. "It's my mom's birthday and I don't want to leave the house," he texted. This irritated me, as I had been in an optimistic mood about our meeting all week. I called him and told him I could just come over and hang out, that it didn't have to be a huge deal.

"I just don't know if I can be around you as friends yet," he admitted.

"Okay," I said helplessly. "I can understand that."

"But... I really want to see you," he continued.

Ugh... "So...?"

"I guess I want you to come over," he decided.

I felt fine until I turned onto his street. When I called him, he texted me to say that he was taking pictures with his family. I parked across the street from his house and held back tears as I looked through the front window to see his entire family posing together in the dining room.

Shit, I thought. Should I leave? I watched as the camera flashed and they all broke apart. I can't leave now; I already insisted on coming and called him. What if somebody comes outside right now and sees me pulling away? How bitchy would it be to convince him to let me come over and then leave and say "Poor me, I can't do this"? Shit. I turned the car off. I looked at the house again and remembered how familiar it felt to pull up to this exact same view.

He called and I told him I was parked outside. "Okay, I'll come out," he said. I got out of the car and promptly dropped my keys on the ground under my car.

"Ahhhh crap," I muttered, bending down to find them in the dark. Actually, I was glad to have a distraction so I could delay looking at him. When I finally straightened out, he was right next to me. We made very brief eye contact, then hugged quickly.

"Hey, how've you been?" We both asked each other.

"Good," we both answered and started walking toward the front door.

... This is where we should be holding hands, I realized. "Is this going to be awkward? Being with your family, I mean?"

"I don't know," he answered. Obviously... dumb question, TAB I reprimanded myself.

"I mean, just... because I didn't know until the other night that you had even told them we broke up. Is everyone okay with me?"

"Yeah, of course, TAB." Great, everyone loves me still. That'll help.

We entered and I said hi to the dogs first, who ran to greet me. Then The Ex yelled to everyone that I was there. His older brother came downstairs and we hugged, then his younger brother and sister came over and hugged me. I said hi to his mom, stepdad, and older sister in the kitchen while they lit the candles on his mom's birthday cake. (I know, big family)

"1, 2, 3... Happy birthday to you," everyone started singing jovially. I barely held back tears while we all sang (seriously, who cries when they sing happy birthday?) I started to sing "dear mo-om" when that part came up, then quickly changed to her name. Soooo awkward, I thought, still not looking at The Ex.

Then as the song ended, his entire family made the most hilarious jokes so that I was instantly put at ease. His mom and I talked, his brothers and sisters told me stories... everything was fine. Except that we were standing two feet apart leaning on opposite sides of the hallway.

As people drifted to the living room, he offered me a seat and we listened in silence to everyone else's conversations. After a few minutes, he turned to me and quietly asked me to go upstairs with him. "Okay," I said quickly, hoping to clear up this awkward tension.

We got upstairs and found that no public space was free, so we invaded his little sister's room. "This is awful," he confessed immediately. "It just feels wrong. I want to put my arm around you or hold your hand, and I can't."

"I know," I agreed. "Same here."

He reiterated that he still wanted to be with me, which made it even worse for him. "Why can't we just live in the same place?" He mumbled dejectedly.

"Maybe we can see each other when we're both in town... I just don't know if now is the time, since this is so new. Especially since neither of us are really free, so we wouldn't even have time to be together."

"I felt fine until I saw you," he told me. I agreed; for a break-up from a 3 year relationship, I had been dealing with it spectacularly. No calling in to work sick, no pints of ice cream, romance movies, or crying. Not even any bad moods really. "Now, when I see you, I miss you. This is why I can't hang out just as friends. I don't want to just be friends."

We were unable to finish our conversation because his sister was coming upstairs, so we tried to find another place. We ended up on a couch in the garage, which was freezing. He said something to me and I nodded, but all I could offer was "I'm fucking freezing."

Frustrated, he brought me back inside where we sat in the living room surrounded by his family. Eventually, we said a few innocent words to each other.

"Oh, is that your new laptop?" I asked. He nodded. "Can I see it?"

He passed it to me and we showed each other a few Youtube videos and chatted. Then I typed in the Internet Explorer address box: "Do you want to talk more at all?"

He noticed a few moments later and wrote "I guess..."

"I really miss you," I wrote.

"I miss you too." He thought for a moment, then: "Do you want to leave?" I pondered, and laughed when he mumbled something and added on: "with me?"

Did I really want to go outside in the cold and talk about serious things, and possibly leave having caused more trouble than I set out to (which was likely, since I hadn't set out to cause any trouble at all...)?

"Sure."