I originally considered titling this “Back to the Future,” because that’s really how it felt.
Tonight was E’s birthday . . . a big one. Despite the fact I spent the day in bed ailing with chest pains (and a blood pressure that was 99 over 68), I headed out to our neighborhood watering hole to meet up with W, E and K, and Jerk Face.
I invited BFD, but he was on a day trip for business, and arrived home at like 3:30 pm, exhausted. Plus, Tuesdays are a big workout day for him — he puts in 4.5 hours, so I knew it was unlikely he’d put in an appearance.
As a result, I invited A. I had invited him yesterday when the plans were thrown together, and confirmed where and when we’d be out. Since A had just come off a 24 hour shift, I knew he’d not show either.
Imagine my surprise when A strolled in 90 minutes late. Everyone freaked out. They all love him so much. A is a character — a brilliant, funny, well-read, slightly crazy philosopher/warrior/former model, who has lead a life far more interesting than anyone else they know. A’s stories are legend among our friends.
We spent many years together and we’re still very close friends. Being with A is always so comfortable because we have such history. I am myself with him. He knows me better than I wish he did. He made me a better person than I was before I met him. I held myself to a higher standard for him. I became more honest, more open, more sharing. All of those things that scare me, I did with him.
I still love him. He still loves me, though he views me as a bit of a curiosity . . . and he is happy I am someone else’s problem. (I do have slightly diva tendencies, after all, no matter how hard A tried to break me of them.) He is always aware that I have BFD. In fact, A and I left together and he walked me to my car and I drove him (in BFD’s car) to his. A has a girl, too.
We sat next to each other, but we have such an easy chemistry still. The guys were so happy to have him there, telling tales of his new adventures and reminiscing about old ones. He is still the coolest person they know (next to me). BFD is third.
I am still a little pissed off at BFD, mostly because he is working very hard this week and not scheduling enough time to be with me. Or, at this point, any time to be with me, before he leaves for a training trip on Sunday.
So, of course, I took and posted photos from last night on facebook. I did this knowing full well that BFD would see them. I did it to antagonize my boyfriend. It’s not that A is devastatingly attractive (he could stand to lose some weight, though he is 6 inches taller than BFD, which should drive him crazy), or that we were sitting close to each other (we weren’t), or anything like that. I just wanted BFD to know I was out without him, with my ex.
Bitchy? Yes. Intentional? Hell, yes.
BFD needs to start showing up for things. It’s aggravating to me that he misses mid-week things. Now, I understand he’s busy, and lives and works in the hills. Plus, this is a particularly bad week, but it’s a bad week of his own making since he is going to training camp next week. My sympathy is waning.
I do not know that my trip down memory lane will make him more likely to show up for things or if it will drive us further apart. Or it may have no impact whatsoever.
I still love A and I miss him, but I am glad we are no longer together. Our lives are easier and happier now that we’re apart.
I love BFD and I am happy with him, but he frustrates me frequently. We spoke calendar this afternoon and I got cranky because he just was not dedicated to finding time for us to see each other this week other than Saturday. Because we’re fine in his mind, he knows he can do everything he needs to do and we’re fine. I hate that. Well, okay, I don’t hate it. In fact, it makes me happy to know that he knows we’ll find time somewhere to be together and he knows I support him having to take two days away this week to focus on resolving this new business crisis. But I miss him.
That’s actually not accurate. I miss him in anticipation of missing him. I mean, I miss the feel of his kiss on any day I don’t experience it, but if he were not traveling next week, I would not be sweating this one.