Our momentous 30th date was not at all momentous. In fact, I didn’t ever realize it was our 30th date until right this second.
Thirty dates. Almost all of them have been good. Tonight, not good. Not bad either. I am just not feeling well, which is making me pissed off and feeling disconnected from him. He was not feeling great — he pushed himself too hard in three separate workouts and a massage. He is in his early 40s, and he always overdoes it.
Tonight was the 3rd night in a row I have seen him. Basically, I have seen him every night since he has been back in town. We also made plans for tomorrow morning to do a workout together.
I know that’s a big deal, this constantly being in each other’s presence. I know it’s meaningful that we’re together daily, that we want to see each other every day. It is becoming clear we are no longer dating. The fact I continue to track each date with a number is a bit absurd.
And yet . . . I am annoyed.
So, here are some quick, disconnected thoughts.
I am feeling a little ill, and tonight’s lack of sex irritated me, even though I was not in the mood either.
I was in pain, which I acknowledged to him for the first time. I took advil there and then again at his suggestion because it was really bad. He asked what was wrong, so I told him, which I had never done before. He is nervous about my health, it’s a concern for captain adventure that I might be a bit fragile, so I neglected to tell him about the stress fractures in my broken foot until last night.
I have two problems with last night.
First, he was speaking to one of his far-off coaches when I arrived with food, so I put it in the kitchen while he spoke for 5 more minutes. Finally, he begged off with “I have to go, I have people over to watch the game.” WTF is that bullshit? I am not people. I am his girl. I am not some secret part of his life, I don’t think. We are very open and public and he has invited me to meet people in his life, but this really set the evening off on the wrong foot for me. I understand it’s a small thing, but I was annoyed.
Also . . . his most recent ex called him twice while I was there. Her name pops up on the tv thanks to “caller id on tv.” He did not answer, nor did he call her back. After the second call, he got his iphone and sent a text, though I do not know if he was texting her. He does not know that I know who she is (hers was the name on the insurance card) and he did not identify her. He seemed more annoyed than anything, but I felt a twinge of jealousy.
Dinner was good. I ordered a new dish for myself and a classic for him. The host handed me my food as soon as I walked through the door, which makes me wonder if they know who I am, relative to him. Maybe they just know who I am since this was my third time there this month, and second time in two weeks for takeout.
He passed on sharing my salmon, but he loved the noodles that came with my dish. He asked to trade me half of his rice for my noodles, but I happily handed them over and declined his offer: “B, I don’t eat that stuff.”
I was ready to leave for a while before I actually did. I was not feeling well, just an undefined sense of yuck. I need to detox after a couple of days straight of crappy food and no sleep. I am feeling bloated and uncomfortable. The foot pain did not help. I was feeling extremely unsexy the whole time.
I stretched across him for a bit, and I know he liked the feeling of my legs against him. He was clearly not well, curled up at the opposite end of the sofa.
He handed me money for the food, but slightly less than it actually cost. He just gave me what he had downstairs. He walked up behind me and slipped cash into my bra, which (a) was quite challenging given that I was wearing a t-shirt with a small neck opening, and (b) earned him an admonishment, “[full first name], what are you doing?!!!” He grinned. I said, is that what you do all the time? He grinned and said he’d never done it before because it seemed kind of disrespectful. Exactly! And now? Oh . . . yeah, but it’s funny, he protested.
I understand that he wanted to press up against me and fondle my breasts. I get that. I was more annoyed than I should have been. It’s sweet that he feels comfortable doing whatever pops into his head because he knows I am down with him. I am. Pretty much, we can do and say anything to each other and it’s cool, but I do still feel the need to be outraged from time to time to keep him in line.
As I was leaving, we kissed, but I was a bit standoffish. I left and was angry, that irrational white-hot hormonal anger, at myself and at him. Unlike last week, I went back and knocked on the door. I opened it, and it was locked. I said, hey, I forgot to tell you something . . . which I did. We talked for a few minutes about a business matter and then he kissed me and walked me out again.
I know that we have been growing so much closer, but there are little annoyances. When I am not feeling well, those little annoyances make me irrationally angry. It’s stupid, but it’s me. Everything seems to be really good between us. Good enough that we can be annoyed or irritated and it’s fine. We’re fine, as he has been saying since the beginning.