01/08/2010

A few days after this, I woke up one morning very livid. The last person I spoke to the previous night was Fish and he had somehow approached a very significant landmark with me so I decided I was going to put an end to the bullshit. I was going  to do some investigation on BB. Alas, I didn’t so much as start when I got not only one but three emails from him. Wasn’t he supposed to be with his dad in Wales? Feeling even more perplexed I opened them. One was an automated email to connect with him on messenger. Not going to happen! The second one was him asking how I was doing and that he was hoping we would see each other soon, the third one was specific, asking me on the exact days I was going to be free to meet him. Oh, so he was calling the shots now? OK, from the beginning I let him call the shots – afterall he found me – but on this particular day something had already snapped and I wanted to show him that he couldn’t just get his way when he wanted, so I sent a reply after two days. I said I was available but didn’t give a specific time. He sent a reply a day later apologising for the late response (after one day? was he desperate for a quick shag?) and he  mentioned two days that he was free, about a week from the days I said I was available. Again, I let it sit while I pondered on the next step to take. Two hours later he sent another email saying he was in fact available for ‘a little bit’ the next day. Growing increasingly pissed off, I just let this one sit as well. Two days later I replied to the emails saying the only time I would be available would be during  the weekend. I did this just to see what he would say because it seemed weird that the only time he wanted to meet me was during the week. He hasn’t replied yet. It’s been four days. I was curious on how he was going to reply, now I’m not. In fact I blocked his address because I ended up doing some investigation afterall. On the old Facebook. I don’t have an account there but God bless Mark Zuckerberg and his privacy laws because it’s all there. I now know where he lives and he is indeed married. I just needed to confirm that and then end it. I’m done.

On to the conversation I had with Fish:

“So, how’s the part-time job going?” he inquired over the phone. I had just had a hot shower and the plan was to go to bed very early. He called just as I was about to pull the covers over.

“Mmmmh…OK. It’s only two days. I’m not really happy with it.”

“It doesn’t matter. You have to start somewhere,” he assured me.

“Yeah…”

A moment of silence passed before I heard…

“You know it’s been seven months now , and I know we have the distance issue to consider but I really want to be with you.”

What? I had to get out of bed. Surely he didn’t say that.

“Wha…what do you mean?” I whispered helplessly. So many things were going through my head.

“It would really make me happy if you were my girlfriend, and I don’t care about the problems you have. We can deal with them, don’t you think? I want to be there for you.”

“You have been.”

“No, I mean in a different way. More than I am now. What do you say”

“I don’t know,” I heard myself reply.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” I heard a slight change in his voice. Was that the tone of disappointment? I gripped the phone to my ear more tightly because my hand had started shaking. Here I was on the phone to this man who I’ve wanted so much that I cried myself to sleep. I dreamt about him. His voice, his face, everything about him made my heart sing and now he tells me that I have the chance to be his, to get exactly what I wanted and ‘I don’t know?’. Why don’t I know? What don’t I know?  Sure enough I wasn’t expecting this. In fact, it had been  a while since I had any hope of something like this happening. Just the other week, I was going to cross him off my list and accept that all he was ever going to be was a friend. But no, he had other plans.

“What don’t you know?” he continued.

“I just…don’t know”

“OK. It doesn’t matter. I’ll wait for you to know. When you are ready I’ll be here because I’m not changing my mind.”

I didn’t know what  say. He continued,

“Oh, and I’m still coming to visit **ET so I think we’ll talk more then,” he finished. A few minutes later I went to bed and woke up with the murderous urge to get rid of BB and his bullshit.

* * : Fish’s best friend. The one who introduced me to him. He is in UK  now and Fish is planning to visit him sometime this year.

Advertisements

30/07/2010

Before BB went ‘to see his dad in Wales’, we had a day out.

“Let’s meet at 12 pm.”

OK. But at 12 pm on a weekday? Aren’t you working?

I still turned up anyway. Mostly because I was feeling randy. I don’t know what I was expecting at noon on a weekday, but there he was in his office wear. The only thing missing was his tie. I got in his car, he kissed me and I instantly forgot about what he was wearing. There is a way in which he works his tongue. Belted and ready to go I heard:

“First, I’ve got to meet a work colleague and give him his car keys,”

“Where is he?” I asked, just to be polite. I really didn’t care. I just wanted him to myself and the sooner we got rid of said colleague the better. He mentioned a town 47  miles away. My heart sunk in disappointment and slight apprehension. Why did I have the feeling that this was going to be like the other ‘car breaks’ day? Even worse, it’s started before I could get any sort of action. Still, I figured I had nothing to do so I tried to fake some mild enthusiasm for this ‘road trip’.  He turns the radio up a bit, it starts raining and Kings Of Leon come on. It’s Closer and suddenly all I can think of is Fish.

Perfect car. Perfect weather. Perfect song. Perfect moment. Wrong boy.

He drives along and we are talking about stuff.  Raoul Moat, how many sexual partner’s we’ve had, anal sex, our favourite food and so on. All this time I’m asking myself questions. Does he really live in my town? Why is his colleague so many miles away? What kind of job does he do exactly? Does he even work where he says he does? We get to the town and he tells me he has to hand over the keys to his colleague at a Sainsbury’s store near a certain junction. He reaches for his satnav and I  feel slightly ashamed for getting over myself. Cleary, the guy doesn’t know his way around the town. In fact, we ended up spending 20 minutes looking for this junction. So I start to relax and after finding it he tells me to go somewhere, in a shopping centre or something and wait for him. Eeerm, right…you don’t want your work colleague to see me. There is no shopping centre, only a Next store. He suggests I wait for him there. I do. At this point I’m feeling particularly pathetic. I expected him to take about 10 to 15 minutes. 20 minutes gone, he’s nowhere to be seen. 25 minutes and I’m tremendously pissed off.

30 minutes. You bastard!

He turns up around 2 minutes past the half hour and we walk back to his car.

“If I see anyone I know, just ignore me. I’m supposed to be at work.”

I’m angry now. So, I get in the car and I remain silent for the better part of 10 minutes. He then mentions lunch and we stop at a Harvester pub mostly because he’s ravenous. Me? Not so much but I love Harvester grub so I cheer up a bit. We sit across each other and I look at this man in front of me. What I’m doing here? What is he thinking? While on our way to meet his colleague we stopped somewhere and indulged. A bit of sexy time. So I sit there thinking of how he was calling out my name before and look into his green eyes. He’s asking about my family. Who cooks the most? My dad I say, and then he goes on about loving slowly cooked home roast. I don’t listen. I just look into his green eyes. They are so beautiful.

Is he kind to her? I hope he spends a lot of time with his child. What is he like at home? What was he thinking when he first met me that afternoon? Did he plan it like this?

I mention that I don’t like plain peas. He says he loves peas in whatever form they come. He offers me a leaf of parsley from his plate to spice up my plain peas. We laugh. He starts telling me about his childhood. How they use to steal carrots with other boys. Was he a little boy once? It’s hard to imagine. I finish my food and I go to the toilet, come back and finish the last of the beer he was having, he pays the bill and we are out of there. I’m silent again. Very thoughtful. Half an hour later we are having sex and I’m sweating and holding on for dear life. I’m a screamer. Later, we both have some Fox’s Mints – my mum buys two packets a week – and he tells me his legs feel like jelly.

“You’ve worn me out,” he tells me and chuckles.

“You’ve worn yourself out,” I quip. He laughs and kisses me while doing that thing with his tongue. We part.

As I walk home, I think of Fish and I’m singing in my head…

…You, shimmy shook my bone
Leaving me stranded all in love on my own
What do you think of me
Where am I now? Baby where do I sleep…

14/07/2010

I think Barclays Boy is married. The first day we met he was driving a different car and I’ve just remembered I saw something like one of those signs you put on your window saying baby on board, only this one said munchkin.

Munchkin = Baby, no?

OK, I’m not sure about this, it could be someone else’s car and maybe I’m trying to looking for something that is not there. Today however, I saw a picture of a woman holding a baby in his wallet. Thrice. I never bothered to so much as linger for more than a few seconds looking at that picture because I don’t want to know. I also don’t care. Really? You ask. Yes, Really.

This is my thought process:

Is BB cheating? Maybe yes, probably not. Why, because I know men. It’s just sex, nothing more. Once he’s had enough of it, he’ll leave and I’ll be more than glad to part ways. If he came to me with that ‘oh-i-really-like-you-and-i-miss you, you-mean-so-much-to-me’ sentimental crap then I’d run away. Fast. And then keep on running some more because that would be the unmistakable reek of an affair. When I think about men sometimes I chuckle because I’ve seen it all. All of it. I’ve seen them in their pathetic and broken man mode, their I love you so much I want to marry you mode, right down to their complete bastard mode.

Nothing surprises me anymore.

 That’s why I remain pertinent on matters men. That’s why I have and never will cheat on a man I love but will try to remain objective when he does. Is it just physical? If yes, can he stop? If the answer is still yes, then we’ll happily move on. If it’s more than just sex, then I’d get very worried and it would be tremendously difficult for me to stay.

BB is going to Wales  for a two-week break next week. He told me his father lives there so he’ll be visiting him. I’m sure he’ll be taking his family along,   OK, maybe not, afterall I’m just speculating. While parting today he asked for my phone number and my email address and asked me to think of him while he was away. Eeeerm, OK?