Masochistic at best.
Every so often, I’m reminded that my Significant-Non-Significant other cares about me. It’s a whole sordid story I’m sure I’ve explained to death, but the whole thing just makes me feel guilty. Like last night:
Exhibit 65:
“Wait… how are you getting home? My passenger seat is full of instruments.”
“I’ll cab it.”
“What?”
“I’m a grown ass woman. I can hail a fucking cab.”
He looked like he was going to cry.
“Sam, it’s FINE.”
“Let me at least give you cab money.”
“Don’t you dare. Are you positive you’re okay to drive?”
He was not okay to drive. We both knew it. The smart thing would have been to both cab back home together, but after nine months, I’ve learned to throw my hands up and just use them to pray he gets home safely.
I didn’t mean to make him feel like an asshole, but this is what happens when I assume we’re a “normal” couple. You know- two people who left their baggage behind and can have a healthy relationship.
We are not those people, not even remotely close.
$25 and a friendly Ethiopian later, I was on the phone with my girlfriend at 2:30 in the morning, swiveling back and forth in circles in my desk chair while she told me I deserved better.
“Helen, he’s texting me.”
“Don’t you dare text him back. You’re better than that.”
“Right. Yeah. No, you’re right.”
“Let him worry. Don’t you text him. You hang up the phone, and go to sleep.”
I hung up.
Swivel. Swivel. Swivel.
I couldn’t bring myself to let him worry about me.
So of course, I texted.
And then, oh, just guess which idiot of us threw on her shoes, grabbed her keys and walked the not-so-safe mile over to his apartment at 3am?
It doesn’t take rocket science to figure that one out- just a bit of foreshadowing.
My favorite part was when I got there, and the warped door that was supposed to be unlocked was jammed shut, and I can see him through the window passed out naked on his bed, and he isn’t waking up to the phone ringing next to his ear.
Boy, did that feel good.
Next time I have to throw rocks at a man’s bedroom window, I need a little voice to tell me “keep the pebbles in your pocket.”
