I awoke to a new email from him early in the morning - he tried to bail, which made me very, very unhappy and a bit pissed. He had worked an overnight 30 hour shift in the NICU and didn't sleep, so didn't know if he would be awake and alert by our agreed upon early evening meet up time. He wanted to find out if we could reschedule. Hell no, we can't reschedule! I have been dwelling on what would happen when I finally saw him for months and it was time to get it over with. I was not about to wait one more day. So, I called his ass and brokered a deal for a bit later in the evening.
A bit later in the evening was not really when I wanted to meet him because I was going to meet him at his house. Late in the evening, with nowhere else to be afterwards could result in bad, bad decision-making.
Yeah, yeah, I know... "why did you go to his house? Make him come to you!" There were several reasons I didn't make him come to me. First, because I have nosey neighbors and I just didn't want to get caught with the ex's car in my driveway. Second, I felt like I would have more control over the situation if I was at his house. I could leave when I wanted, I wouldn't have extra memories of him in my house, yadda, yadda. Strange how I feel more comfortable dealing with him on his home turf, but that's the way I felt. Feel.
So, I had a great day on Sunday. I kayaked for almost three hours to tire myself out and clear my head, ran errands, picked strawberries, then headed to a graduation bbq. I ate dinner, tossed back two Coronas (that was my best beer option. A bit disappointing), and head to BB's. I took the back way: Windy twisty roads and loud music took my mind off of where I was actually going and it wasn't the way I normally drove to his house, so it wouldn't feel like I was going there until the last minute. My little psych-myself-out scheme actually worked quite well because it wasn't until I pulled into his driveway that I started sweating and feeling sick.
(Wow. This is going to be a long post. Sorry. Suck it up. You know you want the full story, and not just a summary.)
It is important now to mention how good I looked. I'm tan, thanks to a memorial day weekend at the beach (and great friends with beach houses. You know who you are...) and some kayaking trips. I wore a not-too-terribly low cut tank top in aqua, which brings out my eyes, a long floaty white skirt and flip-flops. No makeup. No hair-do. Three people at the bbq told me how good I looked, which served to bolster my confidence.
So, as I grabbed BB's bag of crap from the car and walked to his front door, I repeated to myself something along the lines of "you are fabulous. He sucks and doesn't deserve you..." as my break-up guide book had told me. For those of you in need of a break-up how to book, I highly recommend "Its Called a Breakup Because Its Broken", by the authors of "He's Just Not That Into You." I know, it sounds silly, but sometimes, having a book reiterate things that you already know deep down inside can be a help.
I knocked on the door and he opened it. Ack! What now?!? I think he asked me how the bbq was. I think I said fine, and handed him his crap. He hugged me and said "its so good to see you." He told me that I looked very "summery." I think that meant "why the fuck did I break up with someone as awesome and beautiful as you?" Does it translate that way for you? He pointed out my stuff, including a bonus set of computer speakers he was no longer using, but which will help me out a bunch, then asked me if I wanted something to drink.
Not wanting to have wasted a drive, I asked for a beer and figured we could sit and chat until I finished it, then I could get the hell out of there.
I was there for over an hour and a half. I finished my beer, he had a beer; I drank a bunch of water (the beer I had was 9% alcohol. Didn't know that until I had finished it. I felt a bit buzzed). Due to all that liquid, I had to pee. UGH. I did not want to have to go into the bathroom. That was where I used to brush my teeth, and wash the sex smell off of me. For all I know, some other girl's ass has been on the toilet seat. However, there was no evidence of any girl. The shampoo and conditioner that I had used (leftover from the last girl) was in the exact same place I had left it in the tub (I did mention that BB wasn't the best in the cleaning and scrubbing department, didn't I?). I think my face soap was still in the soap dish too (not enough left to warrant retrieving). And, since he had forgotten to include my hair treatment thing in my pile of stuff, I opened the medicine cabinet and retrieved it. Nothing suspicious in there.
So, we talked for over an hour. Mostly about nothing. I told him about my trip to Charleston (minus the pen break-down part) and whitewater kayaking. We talked about my dad's recent surgery and his medical plan. He talked about work, and sadly, about how right before he went home (right after we broke up) he was contemplating throwing in the towel on his plan to do a three year fellowship because he misses home so much. He had never told me anything of the sort before. We talked a tiny bit about how I was doing emotionally and he wanted to know how hard it was for me to be sitting there talking to him. Honestly, it wasn't difficult (i'm going to refrain from using the word "hard" too many times....). This is a guy I care very deeply about, for whatever reason, and it was honestly really good to just sit there and have a decent conversation. In fact, at one point, he said "I was worried I wouldn't be fully awake tonite to talk to you, but I am definitely getting a second wind. You are very stimulating." I refrained from entering into any inappropriate retort, but it was SO tempting, because that's what I would have done for anyone who said that to me, but I couldn't in this instance.
He burned a couple cd's for me, at my request, and I started heading out the door slightly after 9pm. I got there at 7:30. Unreal. He helped carry the speakers (they were in this HUGE box) and put them in the car. Another awkward moment. He hugged me. Hard, and for a while. And, he was wearing scrubs. When I say "hard", it means more than one thing, my friends (did I mention how good I looked?). While embracing me, he said "I miss you." I think I said "good. you should" or something to that effect. Because he should miss me. I rock. We broke apart and he asked whether he would hear from me again. I said I didn't know. I reiterated that I do care about him, but wasn't really sure what to do. He said that he felt as if I wanted to be in charge of what happened next (duh. He got to decide the breakup - I get to decide anything and everything that happens afterward) and he would respect that. I said ok, and said that I would get in touch with him sometime. He hugged me again (hard. both kinds) and told me again that he missed me and that he was so glad I was there. I (don't yell at me) told him I missed him too, and said goodbye and drove away into the sunset...
Ok, well, the sun had already set, but you get the idea.
Not once during the time I was there did I want to throw myself at him, or kiss him, or beg for him back, or even to discuss the possibility of getting back together. I sensed a sadness from him at times, or a remorsefulness. And this is helping me. The hurt I feel comes from being rejected, but he does care about me. I can see it. But the guy is sad, and overwhelmed by his schedule and the decisions he needs to make over the next year. I'm still sad deep down that it didn't work, and probably always will be.
I'm glad that I saw him and talked to him. I'm especially glad that he misses me, and I hope he misses me more now that he was reminded about how beautiful, intelligent and witty (and modest) I am. I don't know what will happen between us over the next year while he is still in town. Will we be friends? Its not unheard of for me to be friends with ex-boyfriends - good friends even. But, in this case, I really don't know.
The important thing is, that I'm ok. And I might be ready to move on.
And I gave the pen back.