I have been on edge for two weeks now. When I agreed to the "break" my momma told me that I would be sorry because I would be a ball of nerves. Dear Momma's always right.
There is a pit in my stomach right now.
I don't think it would have been so hard for me if I had not seen him last week. When I agreed to the "break" I thought we would not see each other, we would miss each other, and reclaim our groove. Every which way I wrap my mind around this I still think we had it. In spite of the elastic-ankled sweat pants. (Like my fashion-conscious brother asked, "You mean like sweatshirt sweatpants?" "Yes.") I would - will - be so much better if even I hear, "Thanks but no thanks. I'm moving on to other pastures." I can accept that and then get my mind to the point of NOT WORTH IT. I will never fret over someone who is not fretting over me.
But I am in limbo. So now that my stomach is somersaulting and the time is closing in, I wonder if he is even going to heed our Feb. 5th date and call or just blow it off. Well, of course if he blows it off, there is my answer. THAT move would certainly get my head around NOT WORTH IT. THAT move would be shit-E. I should be giving him more credit, but frankly his behavior as of late is not the same of the guy I spent every weekend since Sept. 24th with, including Christmas. So I am doubting. My stomach flipping is synchronized to my aching head that can't think about ANYTHING ELSE.
However, the waiting does not come without some positives. I lost seven pounds which I probably just put back on with lunch today. (Chicken and orzo, a big hunk of buttery bread, and the BEST chocolate chip cookie ever from the greek deli.) I am not going out - on Friday night - I know! I am going to the gym instead. Crazy? I think not. Why not reclaim the reins of slender and sinewy? [Edited to add: Shamrock called, I am meeting her for drinks....sinewy will come some other day.]
But on the other hand I am getting the stomach pains that my sister, mom, and I succumb to and which my mom refers to as the "Bennett stomach." That may or may not have something to do with some curse placed on three generations of the Bennett (my mom's) family. Stomach ailments are apparently a family tradition. My grandma died of stomach cancer. Eeriely. So I am never without my ginger pills, which I am popping religiously these days.
Fucking boy. Because I hate that. My feminist sensibilities hate that: Giving some guy your well-being. However, I will gladly give him the weight. A pound for his thoughtlessness, a pound for his selfishness, a pound for his sweatpants.
And then on top of my mental state pinged with anger alternating with sorrow, I have this friend who is being a drain. Let me just say that this girl is a sweatheart, very beautiful, and wants nothing more in the world than to be a mom. She is 38. She is also very small-town (meaning: she never leaves small-town - she lives in a suburb of DC and will not come into the "city." "DC is dangerous.") So she latches on to any good looking guy who gives her the time of day. I have seen her do this over the past 12 years I have known her. And when I say latch on, she latches on with all her being and doesn't let go. I am afraid she sends the guys running to the hills. Because I see her do it with me. For example, she knows I hate the phone, yet she will call me 3 times a day, albeit when there is no boyfriend - with absolutely NOTHING NEW to say. She has no hobbies - she doesn't read, she doesn't watch any TV. (One time she called and I told her I was watching the Bachelor and she asked what that was. Are you kidding? First of all, do not disturb me during the Bachelor (or Family Guy, The Office, or Weeds - and hopefully, Love Monkey) and, what rock is she living under? And, trust me, it is not like she is pondering physics or world peace. She once asked me what it meant to be "conservative" politically. And which was further, Las Vegas or California. See?) So there is nothing else to talk about. Well, lo and behold, she just got "turned away" by this guy who - frankly was sketchy from day one. I wouldn't be surprised if there were drugs and a wife involved. No, it's not a TV show. So now she is turning to me. Three times a day. And I don't have the energy for her. She will not let this guy go. He last told her that he thinks they are on different emotional levels and that he is still hung up on an ex-girlfriend so he was canceling their date for that night. She still doesn't get that. She thinks she just said something wrong so she keeps calling him and emailing him and he ignores her calls. I cringe at the crazy she is teetering on.
But I get the three times a day phone call that goes like this each and every time: "Hi. What are you doing? You busy? Do you have a lot of work? Anything new? I still have not heard from him. Should I call him again?"
So even though my stomach is a ball of nerves, my head aches, my heart pounds, and all I can think about is HIM, atleast HE doesn't know it. It's dignity and I plan to keep it.