If you tell yourself that life goes on, does it really?
I am so very stuck in the mire. Tomorrow makes two weeks since THE phone call. I feel like I have suffered an eternity. I honestly hope he feels the same way. I cannot shake it, reliving it constantly.
Guilty, I want to substitute one man for another as the needed diversion. I'd thought of Uncle Fester as my rebound guy last summer and was fine with that. He certainly brought more drama than any mere rebound guy should.
As it turns out, Ted was my rebound guy from Luke (although that is overstating it a good bit) AND he has the distinction of being my re-rebound guy from this latest mess that I'd thought was pretty much over. I worry it is unfair to him, but I have been completely honest about things, so he knows all and is a big boy. Of course, there was no way entering anything with him that I would have known what would transpire.
I guess our friendship is so off the wall that I don't know how to classify it. Generally so spontaneous that he can't commit to making plans, he's actually begun to default to us seeing each other, to include things like meeting my son and I for pool and darts last weekend. For him to plan several days out is a huge deal; he doesn't like to commit to anything in advance, although I consulted with him and I ordered NetFlix comedy DVDs for our Wednesday night tryst.
Maybe tryst is over-stating it a bit. We have sex in the Clintonian sense, relatively satisfying for us both, but not what I really want. I am getting frustrated. Yet I feel I must be respectful, I suppose. I don't really know anymore. I am in the 2 week PMS zone with these damned bcps. And I slept like shit last night.
Although he definitely enjoys my company in general and will talk for hours by phone even daily, he still has this aloofness that I can't penetrate if he is not actually present (in person or on the phone) with me. I can call both of his phones and get no answer, but often cannot leave a message because his demented mom has used up all the mailbox space - he saves a bunch as proof if he needs it one day. Then I figure he'll see evidence of a missed call anyway, but he later says it didn't show up and he didn't know I called, that I should have tried back again. I figure trying four times in an afternoon is plenty, isn't it? I hate the phone and am not so good at the etiquette. Or, perhaps I am too good at the etiquette and expect too much?
This all brings out a not-so-good feeling. I realize I am now going to have trust issues for some time and it is difficult to project this on an innocent bystander like Ted, but I cannot handle the feelings of rejection, be they justified or not. I hate the phone, but he always asks me to call. Sometimes I make it such a point to tell him he must call me and it becomes a thing, but then he says if he forgets, then to please call him instead. Or he'll finally call after midnight.
Last night, I called once. It was 8:45 and I was able to leave a message. I guess he was away in lala land. I figured the ball was in his court, so refused to try again.
It's not that he doesn't want to talk to me. It's that he's a Myers-Briggs "P" "Perceiving" just like me - no sense of closure, no sense of time, fritter away hours and not realize it. He is unable to overcome it, whereas I have been anal about being on time and remembering the times of specifics that I overcompensate and become too Myers-Briggs "Judging." I truly wish he would compensate somehow, sometime.
I really resent feeling that I am doing all the work and operating outside the box like this. This is my "Perceiving" in action, being so flexible, but it is wearing.
For example, I called each phone on Sunday, but got no answer. This could mean he's at his mom's where he doesn't answer. Later, I pressed about it when we talked, because I told him that I irrationally feel rejected when he doesn't answer and he sheepishly said he was watching TV. He's a CSPAN junkie and maybe there was something important on. (This brings up the white lie issue that I am still reeling from over the newly reopened wound.) It was mighty big for him to admit about hearing the phone and watching TV, but it stings. I abhor call screening; it is so disingenuous and distancing, things he swears he does not intend to be. Am I being too hard?
It's also that he's an introvert like me and doesn't want to be disturbed sometimes. Yeah, me, too, but I extend myself.
Me with my trust issues and him with his aloofness, well, they are beginning to cancel out the fact that we otherwise can get along beautifully and can spend three hours on the phone or all night and all day talking.
We're missing the boat, but I don't know if it's sinking.
PS - The cat had seven, count 'em, seven slices of roast beef yesterday. Overnight, she would eat none of her regular cans of fish and shrimp, puked phlegm everywhere, the turd. So now she's already had three slices of roast beef. And I thought Fancy Feast was expensive.