Unexpectedly, I arrived home at 4 am this morning from my trip (more on that later). A was here, asleep, on cat-sitting duty. He awoke with a start. I must have looked like the angel of death in all black, since I scared the heck out of him. I talked to him briefly and then he fell back asleep.
This morning, I awoke after 4 or 5 hours of mostly restful sleep about the same time he awoke. Rather than linger and talk, he was getting dressed to leave relatively early.
He had two flat tires on his car, so he’d borrowed someone else’s car in the terrible storm last night and then had to go deal with it this morning.
Back to the funk . . . so him dashing off this morning early really put me in a mood.
First thought: huh, I guess he has a girlfriend. Weird. Later thought: I guess if he had a girlfriend, he wouldn’t have borrowed someone’s car at 11 pm to drive over here. But none of that seemed to fit why I was bummed that he dashed off.
It took me a while to really examine my feelings to acknowledge that I don’t care if he has a girlfriend or not. I don’t care that he had to rush off, and that we would not be spending the afternoon together.
What I did care about it that I did not have a chance to tell my best friend all of the things that happened on my trip and all of the new insight I gained. I was not gone for very long, but, just like the old days, I slept about 4 hours in the last 36 hours and spent so much time talking and writing and navel-gazing that I gained some great perspective.
That’s the hard thing. I don’t miss my ex-boyfriend this morning. I miss my best friend.