Uncertainty

Do you ever get the feeling there is a word, or sentence, or a paragraph sitting on the edge of your tongue waiting to jump? It can't simply fall, because that would be natural.  Gravity forcing the weightiness behind your word to take the plunge.  A force of nature all its own compelling the conversation as if from destiny's own shove.  No, my words always have to jump.  My will behind them, carving my own path.  My words are eager to commit their own verbal suicide because my mind refuses to hold on to them any longer.  Jump, and find out what lays beyond...

Some days, I can resist a little bit.

I am excited by the prospect of a new beginning with my most recent Match.com guy.  I will call him Scotty, due to the fact he's first generation American from Scottish parents.  I will feel free to change the before mentioned name at any time he presents something more apt to call him by.

Even though I really want to see him, a new concept for me, I am waiting until our next date.  Even though the perilous words at the tip of my tongue are there, hopping up and down to do a swan dive out into the ether.... "Why don't we get together for some frozen yogurt tonight instead of waiting until tomorrow?"  But that would be unnatural for me. Too forward.  Implying something more, right?

I have let loose a few texts about how into Scotty I am without being a complete sap.  We have only been out once.  It would be asinine to insinuate I am looking forward to weekend hikes or watching movies cuddled up on a couch.  Did 30 fry my brain?  Have I had a stroke?  I do not think like this and I am going to ruin everything if I don't keep these little cliff-hanger words in their place.

At the evil place of work, I was so bored I turned on Facebook and was rewarded with an IM from BP.  We messaged back and forth a couple weeks ago and I wondered if he suddenly got bored with whatever distraction that had made him forget about me.  It was benign.  Yet still hours later, at home, those words laced with question marks were marching around my mouth eager to kamikaze into space. 

Why did BP just stop pursuing me?  What had I done wrong (besides sleep with him)?

Sitting here on my patio, staring at my phone while waiting for Scotty to call me after his run, I was possessed with the need to know why BP still IM'd me, acting like nothing ever happened. And I began the slow decent:

Me: Hey there

BP: New phone.   No contacts.  Help me out here.  (This was exactly what I use when I delete someone from my phone, am contacted again by them, and don't want to text that)

Me:  Ha.  Kate

BP:  New phone yesterday.  No idea how to swap contacts.  What's up.

Me:  Technology is a tricky thing.  Just thought I'd say hi.  (At this point, the words are receding back into my throat toward the hollow place in my stomach)

BP.  Well hello. What are you up to?

I say I'm doing the usual, he says he's hanging out with friends.  I say have fun.

BP:  You should come down and have a drink with me.  (Interpretation: Since you are lonely enough to contact me, drive 30 minutes to my house to have uncomfortable sex)

Me:  It's a little late.  (Interpretation: Gee thanks for thinking of me.  Ass.)

He insists it is not late, I insist that it is.  Maybe some other time, but thanks for the invite.

BP:  You look too deep into things.  Wasn't looking for anything crazy.

Me:  I didn't think that you were.  (If by not crazy you mean I could drive all the way down to have a couple of beers, be contorted into freakish positions while you had your way at my body- I won't even say with because somehow I always managed to feel conspicuously absent- and then have the option of driving home very late at night or very early in the morning)

BP:  So I'll be sitting home alone, and so will you.  Shame.

Me:  Such is life.  We get used to it eventually, right?  (Meaning: It hasn't bothered you before.)

More texts about how we need to live a little, he's all for spur of the moment.

Me: Is that why you're always out doing wild and crazy things?

BP:  I don't do much.  I just jump at opportunities.

Me: Ah, so jumping at the opportunity to have someone drive 30 minutes to keep you company? (Sounds like you're more trying to take advantage)  Btw, didn't you get a puppy?

BP:  I'd drive 30 minutes to keep you company if needed.  (Was that all it would have taken?  Because there were several months where I could've used the company)  Puppy has been put on hold.

Me:  How come?  The puppy I mean

BP:  Haven't found the right one

And I found that the perfect place to stop responding to him.  I'm sure he will never realize the perfect alignment of his half-assed hook-up attempt and the fact that it has taken him 5 months to commit to a puppy he promised his daughter for Christmas.  Maybe he doesn't feel the reason those words are dying to escape from his mouth.  Maybe he doesn't see that he doesn't want anyone or anything for companionship when he can just take advantage of certain opportunites.  Just like he didn't see how ridiculous he looked, or sounded, when he was kissing me all over saying "What are you worried about, Kate?  That I won't call you in the morning?" then faded away into nothing.

And I never had to ask why he just stopped seeing me.  It no longer mattered.  The words that had been so eager to be spoken, had their questions answered.