Waiting it out

Last week I texted the Principal that I missed him. We are, after all, 5 hours away from one another and I did miss him. His response: he'd be back in Phoenix in 48 hours. Like that should make it ok. Would it have killed him to say he missed me too?

Probably.

I decided I needed to go back to taking Dr. Gray's dating advice. Let the man pursue and the woman be receptive. If the Principal wants to talk he can contact me. I'll give him the room to pursue again.

I think my plan has backfired, but I'm sticking with it anyway. He came home from work Friday night and we did the usual routine. Sit around, have a beer and exchange stories. He told me all about work, I filled him in on the dogs. There was a strange undertone in the conversation.

Later, when we talked about Thanksgiving vacation coming up he offhandedly mentioned "if" he could get Friday after off. We'd been planning on Disneyland with my mom, sister and brother-in-law since the summer. My sister was working on finding a goddamn house big enough for the dogs and all of us. And he still hadn't asked for the time off?

As calmly as I could, I asked when he was going to find out. He waved his hand dismissively. He'd take care of it... I started to push, he looked like his eyes were going to pop out of his head. Very simply I looked him straight in the eye. He needed to let me know yes, or no by Monday so I could stop my sister from booking a vacation house. There were 4 people besides him making plans. If he can't go, that's understandable but I'm not about to get screwed by it. Again.

The subject was dropped and changed. But the undertone remained. I had this sneaking suspicion the Principal was just biding time until he closed on his house and he could get rid of me. He wouldn't need anyone to watch his dog or house his belongings. He could quite literally move on.

He went to bed before I did. I ground my teeth. He's tired by 9pm every night... You'd think, maybe, just maybe, after a long week away from your girlfriend you could muster enough enthusiasm to, oh I don't know, take her to bed with you? When I joined him a half hour later he didn't even notice.


The following day the undertone was more of a fine mist that settled over everything we did. It crept up my nose and dug in under my fingernails. I started writing to clear my head. The Principal busied himself outside. When I went out to start on the yard, he went inside. At one point, before he headed out to the store, I tried to engage him in a hot, steamy kiss. He smiled and kept his distance so he could get going. He had things to do. I felt so utterly stupid.

After 4 grueling hours in the heat and sun, battling with shrubs, weeds and grass I was ready for a shower and a nap. We were going to The Melting Pot for dinner and I wanted to enjoy every minute of it. Unfortunately, the Principal decided at that moment to lay down in the bedroom for a nap. I was blocked from my shower. I suppose I could have used the guest bath, but all my stuff was in the other room.

Out in the living room I set a blanket on the couch so I wouldn't sweat into the cushins. He came over, a few minutes later, and asked why I was sleeping in the living room. Would he have really wanted my sweaty, stinky body in bed with him?

The nap was a bust. When he got up from his nap I cleaned up and made myself pretty for our dinner out. Melty decadent yumminess in a romatic candle liight setting. I was going to eat it all up.

In an offhand sort of way the Principal told me I looked beautiful. You know, because its required or something. He mentioned it while explaining his observation of how long it took me to get ready. Next, came the joking about how costly the Melting Pot is. He'd mentioned it before. I looked at him straightfaced and offered to go to a different restaurant. He laughed it off.

Again. He started talking about the prices again a mile later. Mentioning the last time he went to the Melting Pot with friends (he excluded the part where it was a date he'd been forced to go on which I remembered from previous conversations) they hadn't even made it to dessert. I wanted to scream! That's the whole fucking point of going there in the first place. Calmly, I again offered to go someplace else. He waved it off again.

Passing by Red Lobster he pointed it out. "We could have popcorn shrimp!" I clamped my hands more tightly together and dismissed the urge to vomit. I told him we could go there if he'd like. He scrunched up his nose and declared we were on our way to the Melting Pot. At this point I didn't care where we ended up as long as they served beer. I was starting to choke on this strange undertone. Perhaps the Principal had been posessed by the EX....

Dinner was a waste. You really should go to the Melting Pot with someone who is into you. All the tables are secluded, romantically lit and the music is strictly background. While the food was amazing and the service great, my date was uninterested. We were the only couple I saw who sat apart. When I leaned over to kiss him I got the brush off after. Conversation was painful, at one point so much so I was forced to look away. On one topic I was ready to leave the restaurant all together.

Then of course there was the preoccupation with his phone. Checking sports stats.. I used to have these moments with the EX.

By the third course the Principal was already planning the night to be over. Following dessert he was ready for PJs. A glance at the bill earned another comment about the price. I sat there feeling as if I was shrinking into myself. No romance, not even a normal evening. If this had been a first or second date I would have accidentally lost his phone number on purpose. The food had been wonderful, I'm sure, but as we were walking out the door two feet apart from one another, I realized I couldn't remember what any of it tasted like.

The drive home was full of yawns. True to his word, 30 seconds after walking in the door he had on his PJs and was sprawled across the couch. I changed into my own and would have normally tamed my wild hair into a ponytail but it still looked too good for that. It was the kind of rockin' hair that happens every blue moon and should be savored.... Should be worn out to a bar so strange men can stare at me and then massacred by sweaty, hot sex. Obviously THAT wasn't happening tonight.

30 minutes after the PJs were on, the Principal was off to bed. I stared after him as I was abandoned on the couch to watch Stripes. There was no goodnight kiss. Just a sheepish look. I drank a couple beers, alone. The weather was beautiful outside, finally cooling down and I couldn't help but feel as if my relationship was doing the same thing. Fall always brings changes, nostalgia and restlessness...

When I climbed into bed, there was barely a sliver of mattress available. The Principal was sprawled across the bed snoring. All of the covers were pushed to the side and the pillows pushed against the headboard. I cringed at the familiarity of such a scene. He rolled over and draped an arm over me, I think more for his own comfort than mine. Despite all the rich food and few beers consumed earlier, I had a difficult time trying to fall asleep.

Daylight came early. The Principal rose around 7am, because he goes to sleep before normal people's grandmothers would. When he's up, I'm awake. The atmosphere in the house changes. I forced myself to roll over and finish getting the whole 8 hours I wanted. It didn't wourk out very well.

Back outside to the yard. Lose myself in manual labor. The Principal helped out by tilling the ground for a good hour before football yanked him by the balls back into the house. I chopped, trimmed, raked, cussed. It was a fabulous release from the tension inside the house.

I think, at some point later that morning, the Principal realized something was amiss. He started laughing and cracking his jokes again. Reaching over to touch me more when he passed by. At one point, after I'd cleaned up from the yard work and was beginning to wonder whether he'd ever leave for New Mexico so I could go to work, he made a half-assed attempt to come on to me.

Men! Please pay attention: This doesn't work!

"You're all clean now." He smirked at me on the couch.

"Yup." I smiled back, or at least I think I did. I might have lost the ability and wasn't aware.

"I haven't had a shower yet, wouldn't want to get you dirty."

"Okay..." yeah, what girl would want that. why don't you go take a fucking shower and then proposition me? why bring up what you're not going to do to me? where is the passion?

Needless to say, I went on to clean my offices in Casa Grande and left the Principal to finish watching his sports before hitting the road himself. He gave me a big hug, passionate kiss, but I can't remember what that felt like either. I was fading.

The ball was back in the Principal's court. If he wants me, he can pursue me. Long distance sucks and I know I haven't been the most appetizing thing to come home to considering the mess I've been. But, and yes there is always, if you have such a short period of time with the one you love wouldn't you want to make the best of it?