10/20/09: Story Hour

Girl walks into a bar and sits down next to boy. Boy and girl talk and boy asks for girl's number. Boy calls girl the next day and they see each other six times over the next two weeks. Boy calls/emails everyday. Then girl goes away for a relaxing weekend. Boy goes away for a two week long work trip. Girl returns from weekend away and misses talking to boy over the two weeks he's gone and can't wait to hear from him, and about his trip, upon his return. Boy tells girl before he leaves that he will get back on the 17th.

It's the 20th.

Girl has not heard a peep from boy. Girl has walked by boy's house and seen lights and TV on. Girl has seen boy's car parked in several different places on their street. Remember: girl and boy live very, very close to one another, on the same block. Girl is not stalking boy. Girl is being observant.

Girl = me. Boy = SNP. Girl is left wondering the following:
1) Am I getting ditched? Again?
2) Has SNP rethought his previous pursuit of me and decided to use his trip as an exit strategy?
3) Is he merely swamped with work and post-trip catch up?
4) Should I contact him if a few more days go by without word?
5) Am I un-dateable?
6) Have I gone completely fucking crazy?

Don't answer that last one. At least not out loud. I've often wished, as many of you might have, that someone would just tell me whether or not things like this are going to work out so I can make an informed decision at the get go about whether to waste my time and emotional energy or not. Like when the seer rolls up to Julius Ceasar (or his wife ... it's been a long time since I studied Shakespeare) and tells him/her, "Beware the Ides of March." I sort of wish that after meeting someone, like on the way home from the bar, some quasi-creepy, milky-eyed, wrinkled old wise man would emerge hobbling from the shadows, his back bent with time, and tell me what the future holds. Because if that person told me to forget about it, that my life was going to be spent in solitude, sure, that would suck initially, but as with anything else, I'd come to accept the idea eventually and just get a fucking cat, stop shaving, and be done with the whole business. Sometimes I wonder whether this is supposed to be so hard or whether I'm forcing a round peg (romantic love) into a square hole (my life). I wonder whether I'm living out some modern day Greek tragedy where as much as I try to get away from my fate, unwittingly, everything I'm doing is bringing me right to it anyway. (Disclaimer: I completely realize how ego-centric this all is. I also completely realize that I am not the center of the universe therefore making a Greek tragedy starring me nearly impossible.)

Huh ... I just read that back to myself and maybe, just maybe, the fate that I'm getting to anyway is the person that I'm meant to meet. Maybe that's SNP ... maybe not. It certainly won't be if he doesn't get off of his stupid ass and call me. Interestingly, in discussing this current anxiety causing conundrum with Mom, she said, quite mater-of-factly, "Why don't you just call him? Maybe he's wondering why you haven't called." I scoffed and explained to her why this just was not possible. Number one, he's a man. How many men do each of you know who sit at home wondering why a chick isn't calling them? None men, that's how many. If they want us, they go after us. I truly believe that this hunting instinct is a part of their reptilian pre-historic sub-brain and this pattern of behavior is outside of their control.

Or is it? I've considered texting something breezy, welcoming SNP back, telling him that I hoped he had a good trip, ya know, whatever. But then there's waiting for the response ... if he doesn't respond, I'll feel like an idiot. If he does, I'll wonder whether he really wanted to or whether he was just doing it to be polite. Believe me, this may seem psychotic but I've been here before too many times and it's never turned into a situation that has made me feel secure in the outcome. I've always looked at it this way: I will act when I feel truly ready to handle any and all of the possible consequences. And here, right now, I'm not ready. I'm confused and sad and ... confused. Did I do something wrong?

Final piece of insanity: I try to keep the negative thoughts at bay. I fear that I'm creating a self-fulfilling prophecy by being so doomsday. I try to summon the strength to shrug off the past failures and instead summon the ability to hope, hope, hope. I fear that I'm causing the universe to only give me bad because I expect it. But ... How do I expect good?

Advice?? To continue with the Shakespeare theme: To contact or not to contact, that is the question ... and the second question is: am I jumping the gun worrying about any of this at all? Is it too soon to write SNP off?