I never did respond to the ex’s “maybe” yesterday. There was something about that response that just irritated me. It was too open ended. Too devoid of any real thoughts or answers. Too ambiguous.
Much like every conversation we have had about our relationship in the past year.
Apparently the ex has determined he prefers a conversational style that leaves all the loose ends… loose.
I figured I wasn’t going to chase him down; especially when I was already having a bad day. If he wanted to get together, he would call me.
And wouldn’t you know it; when he did call me (at 10 at night) the first words out of his mouth were “No response to my text earlier?”
I had to laugh. How on earth did the man expect me to respond to “maybe”?
So, it being 10 o’clock at night in Anchorage, Alaska (where the sun was still front and center in the sky as though it was instead the middle of the afternoon) we decided to go and grab a drink and catch up (I’m telling you, the sun up here does funny things to your internal clock). I hopped out of bed and quickly got ready (it’s possible I had been curled up working on a writing assignment and counting down the minutes until I could crash), while he drove to my place to pick me up.
I felt like we were awkward around each other initially; like we couldn’t remember how to behave in each other's presence for some reason. It’s been 6 months since I’ve seen him at all, and while we have obviously talked in that time; this was just different.
Plus, I'm sure it didn't help that I was just a bundle of sadness over the news I had gotten yesterday.
After we sat down and started in on the margaritas though, it got less uncomfortable.
Except for the part where two different girls texted him in the 3 hours we were together. Yep. That was awkward.
Especially since I was holding the phone both times because I was trying to teach him how to use his new iPhone.
That’s what he gets for being even more technologically stunted than I am.
And that’s what I get for attempting to help him.
Mostly we just caught up; giving each other a hard time like always. We both steered pretty clear of the serious subjects. I didn’t even clue him in as to why my day had been so hard. We didn’t talk about the baby-to-be at all. As we were leaving, the subject of "us" did come up and I asked him if I should be letting go of that hope. He just shook his head and said he couldn’t answer that question. Then he changed the subject.
So where we stand is still pretty much entirely up in the air at this point.
Except that I know we aren’t really any closer to being where I want us to be.
He has the kids full time for the rest of the summer, which is good; he’s spent too much time away from them working this winter. It doesn’t fill me with a whole lot of hope for us in the next few months though. He will be focusing on his kids, and I… well I guess I’ll be focusing on mine. I would love for him to be that guy who stood by me and supported me through this, but I just don’t think that’s going to happen. I have a feeling this is something I am meant to go through on my own, and that if he and I will ever have any chance of figuring "us" out it won’t happen until I get to the other side.
I would love to be wrong about that, and there is this part of me that I think will resent him if he doesn’t become the guy I need soon (this part that would bristle against that possibility in the future if it doesn't happen now). But I really am not filled with hope for any fast resolutions to this situation.
And for the time being I think I’m going to have to be content with things the way they are. With us being friends who have this kind of crazy past. With us being two people who used to love each other, and who maybe could again but who just aren’t there yet.
When we got to my house he came up. We were both a little tipsy (two margaritas pathetically did me in), and flirty. Nothing happened. We didn’t even kiss. But it could have; our past is too complicated for it to not be on both of our minds when we are alone in a room together. At one point he questioned if we were going to go there, and I told him that I couldn’t continue to walk that line with him. That we were either going to be friends, or we were going to be together; but we weren’t going to be friends who sometimes fell in bed together.
I’ve got to admit that I’m pretty proud of my not so sober self, because even a part of my sober self wanted more to happen. This was the right move though. I can’t put my heart on the line that way without any other guarantees. I need more. From him and from us.
I will say here though that I haven’t given up, and the man still knows where I stand. As I was setting up his phone I teased him that I was going to change my name to “Future Wife” so that any other girls would know to back off if I texted while they were with him. He laughed it off, but as he was walking out the door he was half pouting that nothing physical had come out of the night. He was really just giving me a hard time, but when I shut the door I shouted out “Shoulda put a ring on it!”
I have no idea where that came from, but they were the first words that bubbled up out of my mouth.
And when the door was securely locked, I heard him bust out laughing.
I’m not sure what’s going to happen with us.
But I think it’s worth not giving up.
Maybe he’ll surprise me and turn out to be exactly what I need him to be.
Maybe I’ll surprise him and do the same.
ADSPACE
