Me to The Boy
Sent: August 20th, 2008 @ 4:52pm
“Baby. Baby. Baby. *pokes you in the arm* Baby. Baby. *tries to annoy you* Baby. Baby. Baby. Baby. *kisses you on the cheek and runs off*
The Boy to Me
Sent: August 20th, 2008 @ 5:49pm
“You’re so cute. I’ll call you soon”
The Boy to Me
Sent: August 21, 2008 @ 4:06am
“Baby! (Pokes you in the shoulder) I hate to wake you (gives you a little wink) I wanted to tell you something (smile)… I just Love the shit out of you. ”
Seriously… So damn cute. I got that last one when I woke up in the morning. *sigh*Filed under the boy | Comment (0)
Often, the boy makes comments about being roommates with Garnier later on in life, after the lease on the current place is up. Once they’ve both been fed up with Big Red (the 3rd roommate) and decide they’re going elsewhere. Garnier is considered a “rich kid” by every means of the word. He’s so used to living well, spending money like crazy, that he often forgets that he no longer lives at home, and his mom is NOT there to pick up after him. At some point, in casual conversation with the boy, he mentioned how Garnier’s parents were actually thinking of purchasing a house for him. Who does that?? Whatever.
So I guess when the topic of this parent-purchased home came up between Garnier and the boy, the boy said, hey, if you want a roommate to help with expenses or anything, you can always hit me up. My heart sank a little bit, because I was hoping that things between us, later on down the road of course, would mean that WE could be living together… without other people.
*Insert Sad Panda*
But I know even thinking about it could mean potential disaster. I don’t want to push us any further into serious than we’re both ready for. I think about it, however, because we both are getting older, and we’ve both made our mistakes… and I’m getting to the point in my life where I’m wondering if I ever want to have kids.
Last night, via text message, we had an interested conversation regarding this very subject. He’s been actively looking into which colleges to consider for a Master’s program. I did some work, but knew that it wasn’t something I needed to stress myself about right now.
Although I did make up my mind. The second I’ve graduated, the search for a new job will ensue. And the packing will also begin. And I’m moving. I’m not going to stay in his hellhole anymore. I’m not going to commute to this horrid job anymore. I’m going to get the hell away from all of the things that make me miserable in life.
So he started looking into Chico State. He started looking into housing costs in the Chico area. He said I’d need a roommate, but that the cost was significantly less than in the Humbolt area. I told him I hate roommates, and there was probably one person I’d consider living with. He said, “I thought about that too. We’ll need to sit down and talk about that at some point.”
I guess I couldn’t imagine that he would think about those things. Why? I don’t know. I just think I’m one of those irrational girls who think that each guy she falls in love with will be her “knight” and everything will go perfectly. I know better, which is why I haven’t made any rash decisions regarding our current living situation. I did tell him that I didn’t want to be so far from him all the time. He seemed to agree with me.
We’re also working on figuring out our “anniversary” date. We don’t really have one right now. It’s all so very weird to me, to not have A date to use or reference. So, this weekend we might figure that out. Ahh… to be in love again… in a sappy cheesy weird sorta way, it really is the best thing ever.Filed under it's called life!, relationship, the boy | Comment (0)
See, there’s a funny thing about having a semi-long distance relationship with someone. And I’ve blogged about it before. We never get to go through the obsessive phase where we ditch all of our friends and spend every waking minute we possibly can together. Everything we do has to be planned because there’s an hour drive to see the other. There are a few benefits to him coming to see me, the largest of them being that it costs him a ridiculous amount of money less in gas (and we get to go around town on his motorcycle instead, woo!). But we also get privacy (well, besides the cat who loves him, that little pain in my ass!), where we get some, but he has two roommates.
Thursday I wanted to leave work early, get a head start on my weekend. I knew I was going to spend the majority of it with the boy, and that made me giddy like a kid. On the way home, I stopped by the fruit stand and picked up a few pounds of peaches. They’re the boy’s favorite fruit.
We texted once I got home, and while I was tempted to use the peaches as a means to lure him to my place half a day earlier, I figured it might be a cheap ploy. So when he thought of coming up Thursday night instead of Friday, I was thrilled.it's called life!, the boy | Comment (0)
When someone is feeling down, or even depressed, I’m never entirely sure how to react. Sometimes what they want is just someone to listen to them bitch. Other times (and these seem to crop up equally as often as the bitch-fest sessions) they want advice as though I’m a therapist.
I also don’t often get to see the boy for more than a day and a half at a time. It just so happens that the distance, gas prices and the ever poorness of a student keeps us from being able to go through the “spend every waking minute together” phase. Most of the time this is okay, but sometimes… sometimes this is very trying. So when the boy offered to drive up to come see me after I had spend the previous day with him, I was very excited. That’s nearly 2 days together (with a work “break” in between)! This was truly a momentous event!
But when he arrived, he was irritated. Angry even. Roommate issues that have been perpetuating over time, and only now does he realize that a lot of those irritations that he’s let slide, are really NOT okay… in anyone’s book. With the introduction of a 3rd person into the household, he’s suddenly starting to realize that roommate #1 takes an awful lot of liberties with other people’s things. Mainly, the boy had his expensive motorcycle riding glasses taken. This did not set the tone for the rest of the night.
I was excited to have him over, but once he had his opportunity to vent, he started getting restless. He wanted to go out. He wanted to go DO something. I was a willing participant, but in this hellhole, there’s not a whole lot available to do in the middle of the week. Instead he got up, made himself some dinner, while I fiddle around with correcting the Elton John songs I downloaded that were mislabeled.
He didn’t sleep well, so when I left this morning for work, I left him there to try to rest some more.
I wish I knew what to do. Or what to say, in situations like that. I guess the only thing I can do is not get upset by the fact that he wasn’t the doting boyfriend he can be, and know that there will often be days just like this. If he can forgive me for my moods (which are often angry ones), I should be able to forget his (which are more depressed).Filed under it's called life!, the boy | Comment (0)
He has no idea how much it took for me to ask him to stay. He has no idea how hard it was for me to ask him not to go. I don’t think he’ll ever know how much it took for me to ask that of him and when he turned and left anyway… he’ll never know that I won’t ever ask him to stay again. Not under circumstances that are even remotely similar. It won’t matter, it seems. It can’t be worked through. It can’t be fixed. He’s still going to turn and leave.
So I just won’t ask him to stay.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
And when I heard a motorcycle in the silence of the night, but loud enough for me to hear, I hoped it was him coming back. It wasn’t, and a little part of me is disappointed by my hope of romanticism that isn’t there… and might never be.
Who’s the pathetic one now?Filed under relationship, the boy | Comment (1)
It’s strange to me, at times, to think that this boy is the same boy who wrote such things to me. He doesn’t seem to remember those days, as though they were just a figment of his imagination, and they’ve gone away. Or he woke from a dream, and as time passed, he simply forgot the details. Only they weren’t just details. I will always remember them. And a small part of me will always wonder, and often fear, to see or hear those words again.
I wish that I didn’t care for him so much. He’s no longer this boy who seemed so unattainable, not like he once was. He’s very real to me now. I see this different side of him that he wouldn’t let me see before. I’m not sure why, but he’s this real and tangible person whom I adore. I know that we can’t choose whom our hearts have decided to love… and I realize now, after the conversations I’ve had with the ex, as well as with the boy, that this is entirely true. The details don’t matter with either case, but the fact remains… it’s oh so true.
We had the most amazing weekend. Really, we did. But this one was different from last weekend. We talk, daily. As most people who are dating or boyfriend/girlfriend do. We just don’t get to see each other very often. It isn’t feasible for either of us to drive the nearly 50 miles for just a few hours. As much as I would love to, I simply can’t afford the gas. He rode his motorcycle to pick me up, I packed a few things, and went back to his place with him. We watched some UFC fights at the bar and I had fun. It was more fun that I would have thought. 5 of us also had shots, in two different time zones, in two states. And as stupid and cheesy as that sounds, it was the coolest thing ever. Ha! It’s a story I’ll tell people years from now, while sitting at a bar, laughing about those funny things we’ve done in life.
After UFC, I learned something about the boy that I didn’t really expect to find out. It’s something that I believed only the ex ever did. It was something I believed I would never find in another person, ever again. While it’s deeply personal, and even a little bit strange, I’m half tempted to share it anyway, despite the fact that most would be grossed out by it. It doesn’t matter, not really. The details don’t matter. What matters is that it didn’t bother him.
For the first time in my life, someone looked at me, mostly naked, and told me that most guys only get to think about having sex with the beautiful girl… and he was lucky that he got to. There are no words to describe how that makes anyone feel… ever. It can’t ever be recreated, not that moment. It will also be one of those moments I’ll always remember.relationship, the boy | Comment (1)
The boy is on his way here and should be here shortly. We will be eating a ridiculous amount of food that is horribly bad for you. We each picked out 3 movies to watch, and I think it’s going to be a whole day event. I can’t wait… And at the same time, I’m a little… freaked out.
I guess we’ll see how this all goes. I hope it goes well.
And I hope I get some In & Out.Filed under relationship, the boy | Comment (1)
A part of me wishes that I could just hold onto this, and relish in it. Because it’s what I wanted all along. It’s what I was hoping for all along. I wanted him to realize how wonderful I was (*smirk*) and to come running back. I wanted him to know that I would be here for him, despite the fact that at times I really don’t like him. I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to want me back.
For all intents and purposes, that’s what I got. At least that’s my take on the conversations of the last few days.
I try to see if I can get him to talk to me about it, without having to outright ask him what the hell is going on. He’s decided that pet names are his thing again. And not just the broad “baby” he uses when he refers to his female friends. I’m talking about the “sweetie’s” and “sweetie pie’s” that he used to call me when we were first dating.
He wants me to meet his mom. His mom wants to meet me, so he asked if I was okay with that. I guess so. I don’t have any objections to it. I just wonder what he’s been telling her to make her want to meet me. I’m just some girl who came into his life and loved him for a little while during a rough spot.the boy | Comment (1)
I screwed off. I slacked the hell off, and my exhaustion caused me to postpone the writing of the take home final in place of sleep. I slept. I woke up early, showered and did all the good morningly stuff, and sat down to write a paper. Albeit a short paper, it still needed to be written. My apathy and lethargy is astounding! No. Really. When I got out of the shower it was just shy of 8 am. I decided to log into WoW instead. Why? I dunno. Cause the idea of writing yet another effing paper made me ill.
So I played about 40 minutes of World of Warcraft instead. Yeah. World of effing Warcraft. Why?
No clue. I have no damn clue why I do this to myself.
So I write a crappy paper, print the damn thing up, and head to school, on schedule. Get to school a little earlier than anticipated, and turn said paper in. I’m going to miss that instructor though, despite the nutso papers I had to write (mostly because I was out of my league… not the normal sort of papers I’ve ever had to write in the past, making it difficult to fake it!).
I get a call from the boy. He’s on campus early, and wanted to hang out some. I wanted food after fasting for 13-ish hours. I didn’t care what, I just REALLY wanted some FOOD! I meet up with him, we pretend to study for all of 10 minutes and go to take our final. Let’s not discuss how that final went.
We spend some more time together. This time, a plan is made. A plan for me to take him home after his next final, and he would take me riding. I was stoked. STOKED! I <3 being on a motorcycle. Even though I’d love it more if I were the one doing the driving, it’s still fun. The wind, not so fun. I got pelted with bugs at some point. And my hair. Oh my poor hair. It looked like one great big giant dreadlock. It was not cute.
But he wracked up over 300 miles on his bike, for my amusement and entertainment. He paid for gas. He paid for dinner. He stopped when my butt needed a break. We laughed about signs that I saw (“Rainbow Ranch. Not GAY, just happy“). It was just an all around good day.
On the drive home I sent the BFF a text message. “Why do they have to be perfect specimens of the male gender when you’re just friends?” Why indeed. I’m not sure, at least not completely what it is I’m hoping for. She asked if I would be better off not hanging out with him as much. The answer is yes. I would be better off. Though I’m not 100% sure that’s even what I want, at least not deep down. What I want is to finish school, and get the fuck out of this hell. This is what I’m striving for. This is what I’m working towards.
I won’t lie. Today I fell in love with him… all over again.
Tomorrow, I start over with letting go.Filed under it's called life!, the boy | Comment (0)