I have conversations in my shower. I do it frequently and it’s not always with the same person. I do my thinking in the middle of scrubbing my body and rinsing soap out of my hair. While waiting the appropriate amount of time for my purple shampoo to insure no brassy-ness creeps into my blonde, I debate things or explain things to people who would likely be glad they aren’t there for my tirade.
Lately those conversations are with AZ. The man I’ve recently realized I love. We’re having a long drawn out silence at the moment and my mind, and heart, has lots to say to him still. So… we converse, or me and my loofah do at least, while I’m buck naked and drenched. No, he looks nothing like a loofah.
I’m always amazed the amount of words I can come up with when no one is around to speak those words to. It’s like there’s a lag time, my brain is buffering, and in the moment I’m left without a thing to say. It’s so cruel and yet, a perfect illustration of my life.
The first time he “disappeared” was around Christmas. I was puzzled, but hopeful it meant that he was happy, working things out in life, and just needed to move on. We met at a rather bad time for both of us so I wasn’t mad, I had nothing but good thoughts and vibes for him. I prayed for him and his son often and there was peace in my heart. I thought I’d learned something, his purpose in my life was complete, and that was it. I was after all… no one to him.
I don’t mean that as harshly as it sounds. It’s only meant in a truthful way. We’d met, chatted, been friends plus, which amounts to an attraction that hung in the space between us, and that was it. I wasn’t family, I wasn’t a girlfriend, and I was at best… a friend. Not a close one either. The kind of friend you know you could be with but are too afraid because: it’d be too good, it’d be very deep and intimate, you’re not ready. The kind of friend…. you keep an arms length away. Get too close and you’re likely to fall. Hard.
Pretty sure it wasn’t just me that felt it either because, as I’m sure you assumed already, he came back. If I had to guess, because we’ve never talked about it, I’d say he’s drawn to me and he’s not 100% sure what to do about that. Guys don’t think with their hearts the same way women do or can.
Seems clear to me that when drawn to someone you need to either roll with it and see where it takes you, or ask yourself why you’re not rolling with it. Or why you’re drawn to them. Guys get all weirded out about clingy girls, and commitment, and till death do us part. I’m not saying that’s AZ’s problem… it’s anyone’s guess what’s up his ass. At this point… I’ve given up trying to figure it out.
When he popped back up shortly before New Years he was sweet. Said he’d missed me, was interested in how life was going, normal stuff if we were just friends. We clearly aren’t, but the effort was appreciated.
There have been silences between us since, and not all were his fault. I got my hopes up early on that we’d end up sittin’ in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, but I should have know that the timing was still off and it was a pipe dream. So, I did what any scared ish-less chick would do- I tried to get over him.
Yeah. I know. Tried. Obviously I either didn’t try hard enough, he’s just that hot, or… and this one I’m foggy on, but maybe God does have a plan for us. All I know is this-it’s not a coincidence how I met him, how it went after, that we’ve gotten to this point, or that my picky ass heart chose him. It’s just not.
It just occurred to me- no matter what you believe, if people are meant to be together then they are. It’s not always an easy, well lit, meticulously maintained path to get there, but you end up where you’re supposed to be regardless.
Now, because I do believe in God, I can’t just half ass that. I can’t say that God helped me find strength to make it this far but then dropped me off here in cow country and said “fend for yourself”. Since I believe he has a plan for me, the perfect guy picked out, a white picket fence somewhere with my name on it, then nothing AZ or I do to try to derail the relationship train should work. Unless, it’s not the plan.
I’ve been a part of a couple very special, meant to be, kismet kind of relationships. Neither of my previous experiences went smoothly, to plan, or frankly should have worked. They both changed me, brought me to maturity and adulthood, and fortified my belief that true love exists. It is a thing people.
With all of this said, I still have so much hanging out there, unsaid, between AZ and I. In the last 30 days we discussed dating, he had a health crisis (the resolution to which I’m not privy to), I did what I could to support him, and he… vanished. Again. He no longer works where I do, I’m not sure if he can/will come back, and… I try to prepare myself to never hear from him again.
“Why is it up to him to make first contact?” you may ask? Because I was the last “contactor” and he was the ghoster. I can’t be the girl that chases him down. That’s not attractive or part of my nature anyway. I did what I could. He either lost his phone, broke both his thumbs, caught a nasty virus that rendered him comatose, or died. Or, and this is the worst scenario, he just ignored my last attempt to maintain contact. I’m hanging in there hoping there was a tragic double thumb war incident.
So, now I’m talking to him in the shower, almost daily, saying things I didn’t get to and may never get to now, and asking myself: when do I call it quits and put an end to the waiting altogether? What am I actually waiting for?! If it’s going to happen, then you better believe it will whether I stew every day about it or not.
In the interest of feeling better, and being happy, I’m now going to consider our one way, hot and sudsy convos, complete. Praying is always welcomed and encouraged but the “I need to tell him ____” time needs to be done.
For all I know…. his thumbs are in splints and he’s driving his truck around town only using his fingertips. Not my issue to worry about.
He knows how to find me. God will nudge him if it’s in the plan.