He's tall. Over 6 foot, I'd say. I guess you could say thin, but not creepy "Ichabod Crane" thin. Sometimes when he stands akwardly, I can see the beginnings of a beer gut. It makes me smile. And when I face him I almost feel petite. That's an odd feeling for me. I am always as tall, if not taller, than most men I know, but I like being shorter than him.
He LOVES hunting and some racing derby shit where I think they crash into each other on purpose? IDK. He thinks jeans & a t-shirt is acceptable attire at all times and the words "business casual" are not even remotely in his vocabulary. He drives a big ol' truck, has a brown lab named...wait for it.... "Brownie", & not one decoration on the walls in his house. And he wouldn't have it any other way. His Christmas tree is still up, possibly from the year before last, because he "likes the way it looks". Besides the fact that he can cook & clean, he is completely opposite of me. But somehow, some way, our friendship works.
He was the first person I showed the first letter to. I drove immediately to where he was. There is comfort in him that I can't find elsewhere. I have known him since freshman year in high school, but we weren't really close friends or anything. I was in my own world most of the time, far to busy writing poems to attend parties. (lame) He eventually married Rose's cousin, with whom he has a child. He also eventually divorced her.
None of that is important though. We have become close friends in the past few months. Even before the shit show that is Shamus. One time I was bartending, and I heard my sister ask him why he doesn't date me. I heard him tell her because I "mess with Shamus" and he doesn't need that. It made me mad. "You don't know anything about me so shut your mouth." I said. I was irked. The nerve! He doesn't know shit about me, I thought. UGH. Everyone THINKS they know!
The truth is he did know.
Before I ever even admitted it.
He knew women like me- ones that love the wrong man & allow defeat.
There were many moments when comments were made or inuendos made me wonder if he had any interest at all. I didn't want to hurt him. I didn't want him to be succumbed to Shamus & his games. I didn't want to let him down. I spent months laughing at his jokes-because they are funny- and taking his "dinner & movie" invites as nothing short of a "grain of salt". I thanked God every night for him. He lives around the block, you see and has become my proverbial blankie, keeping me calm and warm and of course helping me sleep at night.
He brings me down a notch-sometimes when I believe I least deserve it or need it- however, he grounds me. Something about the way he talks back to me is refreshing.
Last Thursday via text:
Me: I'm starting to get kinda sad about Valentines Day. It's so stupid but it still makes me sad.
Him: Fool, It's THURSDAY.
Me: Yea, I know. But it's coming sooner than you think!
Him: BUT IT'S THURSDAYYYYYY!
Yea. He won.
Last week I brought him to a benefit with me that Shamus's brother/sister-in-law were attending, as well as my parents. I cannot tell you the last time I enjoyed myself like that. I laughed. I laughed hard and with intention. I laughed a lot. My father said to me the next day "How nice it was to see me laugh & how my eyes light up when I do.". Then I got a call from Shamus's brother-basically stating the same thing. I was convinced it was a conspiracy & they were all just trying to "urge" me to get over Shamus with him. Nothing physical has happened between us, besides a hug, a much needed one at that.
Last Friday, I met him for happy hour. We had some drinks, and by "some" I mean most likely too many and a few shots. After our little "Tour de Vodka", he got in my car announced loudly and bluntly- "I can't FUCK you."
Ummm, Excuse me? Where did that come from?
Yea, I didn't know either. I am not exactly sure at what point, during me being at his house every night crying over my married boyfriend of ten years and drinking enough wine to intoxicate a third world country, he assumed I wanted to fuck him. Does he think that that would have made anything "better" or "less complicated"? Of course I could have taken the easy way out and layed on the couch with him. I certainly wouldn't mind feeling arms around me! I REFUSED to allow myself to make him a "quick fix". I must look really hot with snot & mascara running down my face. Justsayin.
Needless to say, I was VERY upset. When we got to his house, while words were exchanged, I made him get out of the car. I was crying. Violently. (One of my sexier moments, I'm sure.) So now we are barely speaking. I feel lost and saddened, yet, I am very stubborn. I know I need to talk to him, I just don't "feel" like it. Doesn't he know how emotionally exhausted I am! Helloooo! Of all people, he should be very well aware. Is he going to be another Drew?
I have been going over my thoughts and actions for the past few months. Did I do or say something to lead him on? Is he trying to convince himself HE doesn't want to fuck me? And wait a minute... why doesn't he? Am I not "fuckable"? Just because I didn't want anything more than friends shouldn't mean I'm not fuckable right? OMG. I'm not fuckable. FUCK.
I often hear people talking about all of the things that I do for "ghetto" kids & how I am "sooo thoughtful" & such a "great person", and it makes me feel really good, but as I was thinking about this, I realalized no one has ever really "complimented" me on any of these things to my face. That, of course, is NOT why I do any of it. To receive is NOT my motivation in giving. One time I heard my family talking about how there is "something different" about me- as opossed to my brother & sisters- in a good way (I think). I have to wonder, why not say it to me?