I’m pretty sure I put my relationship ineptitude in front of a bright blinking light this weekend.
Not that that’s new.
A few days after my last freak out I sent the ex a text message that basically said “Can we just forget the last two weeks ever happened?”
It was longer (don’t you guys know me and my text issues by now?) but that was pretty much the gist.
And we were fine after that.
Kind of.
Let’s just say our conversations from that point forward were filled with small talk.
Nothing heavy. At all.
His dad was in the hospital that same week for a heart surgery that ended up turning into two heart surgeries, so I wound up spending some time with his family. It meant a lot to me to be there. I love his family dearly and they have all been there for me through this last year, so I was thankful that he didn’t mind my spending that time with them. With him still in Seattle, we talked a few times that weekend about how his dad was doing, but didn’t touch on anything relating to “us” at all.
That was about 2 weeks ago, and I hadn’t spoken to him again since his dad was released from the hospital.
Saturday while I was bowling I missed a call from him. I thought about calling him right back, but it was noisy where I was and I didn’t want to miss a turn (not that I was giving a worthy performance), so I waited until I was leaving to call him back.
We talked for a few minutes, but not about anything major or important. Then he said he was on his way to a softball game and he needed to let me go. So I told him good luck and we said goodbye.
A few hours later he called me again, and again nothing major was revealed. We basically just caught up for a couple of minutes before he told me he was on his way out for what would be his last weekend in Seattle (he will be home for good next Friday). I told him to have a good time, and that was it.
At this point I was wondering what was up with the calls, but I wasn’t going to pose any big questions. I think I’m finally of the mindset that he needs to figure out things in his own time, and I’ll just keep doing what I’m doing until he man’s up and tells me he wants something different.
Hearing from him was nice though.
I woke up Sunday morning to four missed calls from the ex in the middle of the night. Four. One I would have laughed off as a drunk dial, but four made me nervous.
Not to mention, this is a man who (to the best of my knowledge) has never drunk dialed me. In the entire time I’ve known him, I don’t think he has ever called me without intending to.
And he has certainly never called me four times in a row like that.
So I called him back and left a message half joking about him being dead in a gutter. I asked him to call me and let me know he was OK when he got a chance.
Hours passed. I showered, made breakfast, and fidgeted through church checking my phone every few minutes.
As the time moved slowly by, my anxiousness grew. I literally had him dead or in jail in my mind. Why else would he have called me so many times in the middle of the night if something serious wasn’t going on?
And it wasn't a bootie call. We have hundreds of miles between us right now, so it’s not like there is even any bootie to call here!
I tried him one more time in the afternoon, and then I pulled the least cool move of the century.
I called his mom.
I just thought that maybe she had heard from him and could ease my worries.
OK. I really thought that maybe she could get him to answer the phone if he wasn't dead.
The sad thing is that as soon as I was hanging up the phone with her, he called me.
Of course.
We talked for a few minutes and he assured me that he was fine (and expressed his irritation with my worry). I see the man’s point. He is 35 year’s old. A grown adult. His having too much to drink and needing to sleep it off every once in a blue moon is hardly a reason to set off the alarms.
But I was worried. I over-thought the whole situation into oblivion.
I once again showed all my cards by making it clear I cared too much.
And he was fine. Hungover, but fine.
I was trying to play off the “I’m still a cool chick, even though I really was worried” persona when he stopped me and said “Hey, can I call you back? My mom is calling.”
“Oh yeah” I gulped. “I may have called your mom.”
There was a long pause as his frustrated silence filled the line.
Finally he broke it and said “bye” right before clicking over.
I ratted out a grown man to his mother.
I, his ex girlfriend, called his mommy when he didn’t return my phone calls.
How high school is that?
And I still have no idea what the 4 calls in the middle of the night were all about.
I just know I haven't seen him in almost 6 months and he'll be back Friday.
And I, for reasons I can't even explain, am pretty happy about that.
Give it a week though.
ADSPACE
