It don't mean nothin'! That's what I'm telling myself, anyway. I've learned to never get overly excited about anything having to do with other people. What I mean is that I know I can only count on myself in the long run. If I have reduced expectations of others then I have a decrease in disappointment.
One of the most dastardly things a girl can do to herself is get her hopes up, or read into anything the male of the species has to say. I'm not man bashing. Don't go accusing me, Douglas. I've just learned that it's best to see it for face value. No matter how baffling and hard it is to resist, it is best not to put the cart before the horse.
It was Valentine's Day, Thursday, February 14, 2008. Yes, it's a little dramatic for something that just happened two days ago. I have a flair for such things ... let me enjoy it. I had written in my previous post that I hadn't received any calls from the men of my past. I was groovy with that fact. I was content for the first time in many years with Valentine's Day. I spoke too soon.
I arrived home to bestow a V-Day gift upon my son. To my delight, my sister had also dropped by and 'helped' Man-cub manage a gift for me -- a lovely watch. The band is adorned with Swarovski crystals and silver beads and heart charms. Glorious! I love watches even though I rarely wear them. Weird, huh? Anyway, back to the matter at hand.
I noticed the message indicator flashing on my answering machine. I glanced at the caller I.D. and noticed a familiar area code. I told my sister that Old Blue Eyes called at 10:02 am that morning. I can't recall her reaction as I was too busy trying to disguise my own. I rolled my eyes and just shrugged it off. She and I visited for awhile when her cell phone began vibrating. She checked to see who was calling and it was her son. So, she took the call. While she did that I hit 'play' on my answering machine.
- "Hi, Happy Valentine's Day. Bye" ::click:
Blue Eyes hadn't ignored me this year. It's not as if I had sent him acknowledgement of the gigantically over accessorized velvet-lined-heart day of the year. I just brushed it off.
After my sister left I headed for the computer and pulled up my email. Nothing from BE. I had received a very sweet e-card from someone else, though. I waited until Friday to send BE an email.
I got your message. What a surprise to get a call from you in the morning on a week day. I'm sorry I was at work when you called, though. I hope you had a nice Valentine's Day. I worked, came home, talked to my sister who dropped by with a gift. It was from Man-cub, but she helped him with the shopping.
Talk to you later,
I had to give myself at least 12 hours to decide on a proper manner of handling the call/message. It shouldn't be a question of if or how, but with BE, I tread very carefully. I wasn't expecting a response from him. I just assumed he desired to feel needed or loved. So, he called upon someone who has never let him down; me.
If he did respond, I can't remember what he said. Odd, huh? I looked in my emails and it's been deleted if he had. I worked last night (Friday). When I was leaving the store I heard my cell phone beeping. Again, a familiar area code showed on the caller-ID. I had to call the Man-cub to let him know I was on my way home. I asked if anyone had called. He said yes, but didn't answer the phone, "you told me I don't have to answer if I don't know the number." No message had been left, either.
After hanging up with my son I dialed the all too familiar; yet, infrequently dialed Savannah phone number. I let it ring 4 times. It was then that I realized my carelessness might have awakened him. It was 10:45 pm in Georgia. He says since he has no one to spend the mornings snuggling, he might as well work. Bleah. Go grab a barf bag. I can wait.
He sent me an email this morning, and this is what it said:
Hi Baby, I am sorry i missed your call last night. I was in bed. I had to be up at 5 this morning to be at work by 6. We are very busy down here as usual. I wanted to talk to you about a few things. I will try to reach you sunday night. I have to go pick up the supermodels tonight and they usually go home about 8 on sunday night. It is going to be 78 degrees here today, if you were here we you could lay out TOPLESS in my back yard, lol. see ya sexy girl.
He always makes some retarded remark about me topless. It's just normal. Don't jump to conclusions or assume he's a pig. Well, he has pig moments, but he IS a man, afterall; a man who has seen me in all my glory. So, who can blame him for being slightly fixated on Thelma and Louise? Ha!
So, immediately my girly brain jumps to curiosity about why he'd call to wish me a happy heart day when he, obviously, is going to tell me he has found THE ONE! The girl to end all dating for him. The woman who'll put an end to his workaholic ways. The chica supremo who has saved him from eating tuna salad everyday. The femme who is a lady on the street but a vixen in the boudoir. This time I didn't vomit at the idea of this happening. Would it make me sad? Sure as hell it would. I'd be quietly devastated. Would I cry? Most likely you'd hear a sigh, mild gasp and a sniffle. Once off the phone I'll let it out and really have myself a good old fashioned sobfest.
See! Did you just witness what I just did? I jumped to conclusions. I'm assuming the worst. Do you know why? Exactly! If I think that woefully, then nothing will surprise me.
I called him when I left work today after 4 pm. I know I shouldn't have, but it was killing me to know just a teensy bit about what he's thinking. He didn't answer. He was either enroute to picking up his daughters or doing something fun with them. So, it's HIS time with the girls. It's not my place to intrude. He said he'd call Sunday night. I will just have to be patient and pretend that he never wrote, "I wanted to talk to you about a few things." That's a pretty broad scope of items to discuss. Hell, he might simply want advice on new eyeglasses or, or ...