I have to get this out of my chest, my stomach, and more importantly my heart (although it seems it has lodged its self to something in there, probably fatty tissue); the Italian is getting married.
There, I said it- taking a deep breath-
I don’t think I know what love is. No, nope, I don’t. But, I don’t know what this feeling is either. This mess I feel inside that I am at some level happy to get out of me and scared to have empty at the same time. Sacred because what I felt with him I have never come close to having again, and sacred that the realty for that space has now gone up because of the high expectations I have. Poor man (if I ever find one that’s worth my time) that has to try and find a way to fill it. Funny enough though, I am happy to be tossing all those feelings out… Crazy! I’m like Katy Perry’s “I’m hot and I’m cold…” song, I’m all over the place!
This is the guy who sought me out, this is the guy who didn’t take no for an answer, even when I gave all those excuses as to why I couldn’t go on a date with him.
Italian– “We’ll do anything you want. Bowling, movies, dinner, bowling and dinner.”
I remember feeling desired for the first time… I was 22.
On our first date we went bowling… and we were accompanied by all my friends. In truth I had plans with my friends and he couldn’t wait so he came… he just wanted to see me. My friends loved him, especially Jules (and let me tell you, she is the hardest person to impress). We didn’t bowl much, we made out, haha. Afterwards we decided that we should all go back to the guys house (our group of friends who we were out with that lived together) and play ‘beer olympics’. Ohhh yeeaahh, beer olympics; darts, quarters, beer pong, and this really hard string thing that you had to latch onto the wall. They all loved him, and I was happy.
- He helped me with my running form.
- He never yelled at me, and always had a cool demeanor around that made everything so easy.
- He was funny, and easy going.
- He listened to what I had to say, and learned that sometimes you have to listen instead of just giving advice (which is the first male instinct when a woman shares a problem/concern/or just vents). He said he learned that from me.
- He didn’t push for the intimacy.
- He took me to the Keys with him on a mini break with no expectations.
He was not perfect, no one is, and by all means he had his flaws, but for some reason I always remember the best times with him over the bad ones (although I wont forget the bad ones either). This was the same guy who almost ate my entire face when we had our first long kiss together (nose and chin had bad night that night). I cherish those memories for the pure simple fact that I remember being truly happy. I don’t for a second think he is still the same person, not at all. This is the person I knew, the person he turned out to be the last time we spoke was a completely different person…
He stood me up for my birthday when I was in Chicago. We had made the plans and he stood me up. Needles to say I turned to my best friend, the always ready- wine.
I had two bottles, and let’s just say that my friends remember me as “a cuddly drunk, and completely functional.” I was hurt, gosh was I hurt! I couldn’t believe that this guy, this MAN just stood me up, never called, never picked up my calls, not even a text…
The next day my cousin gave me a birthday card with a polar bear spread out on all four on the floor with his head hanging from the iceberg… it was suppose to be me after my drunker stupor.
Well, the space is now vacant. Putting this out there has been most cathartic. I’m happy. Empty, but happy. It wasn’t love, no, not close, but it was something special.
We were friends here. And I’ve obviously been drinking.
