Tonight was a blast. It had elements of all of my favorite dates with BFD — we hung out, we had sex, we went to our favorite upscale Chinese place, we talked, we played “name that tune” with his iphone. We laughed, we teased each other, he asked for my advice on an interpersonal matter from his trip. Really, it was a great night and I am very happy.
Today did not begin auspiciously. This morning, I was still annoyed with him. Last night, I had gone out to meet JerkFace, and eventually W met up with us. JF asked me a single question that just pissed me off completely: “so, when is BFD back?” I answered him honestly, “I have absolutely no idea.” And that really bothered me.
(Later, the guys decided to tell me everything they think is fucked up in our relationship and I had to tell them: do you honestly believe I am not aware of these issues? do you believe that I am deliriously happy thinking everything is just perfect? does anything in my affect make you believe that? They had to admit, uh, no, I guess you’re right.)
So, this morning, still annoyed, I was pondering whether to reach out to him and if so how. Finally, around 11, I figured I’d call his office and then follow up with an email. Except he answered. We had a long talk about his trip. He was still processing how it all went so badly, trying to sort out the chronology. He told me exactly who was there and what happened. It was good to hear everything and it reminded me that his pre-trip tension is just pre-trip tension. We made plans to talk later and to see each other tonight.
The seeing each other tonight thing really surprised me. He’d arrived in after midnight and I knew he was exhausted from travel and stress and had a lot of work to catch up on.
We ultimately decided to get together at 8. There was no question I would be driving down to him, and I made it there on time. He was dressed barely, obviously just out of the shower, and I was more casual than usual, actually wearing shorts instead of a skirt.
We sat next to each other on the sofa and I leaned over to kiss him while we confirmed there was no basketball on tonight. We talked for a few minutes and he asked if I’d eaten. I told him I eat all the time, so yes, but I am up for grabbing food.
He decided we should have sex before heading off. It was actually a surprise. I had sat down next to him and kissed him when I arrived and he did not seem that interested. He was tired and obviously hungry, which would be the perfect reason to skip it. Had he been in town all week, we probably would have, but he is just back from a week apart.
I am hampered by a bad period, but we had a lot of fun anyway. We have been together for long enough now that we work around any obstacle. Interestingly, he refused to do something he usually loves that had nothing to do with my situation. I had never asked him to do it, he just often does, but when I asked, he refused. Now, he did it a little on his own before I asked, which made his refusal more interesting. It’s not a big deal, at all, but I do love figuring out how his brain works. (I am also not disclosing what it is, but it’s not what you are thinking.) I am also trying to figure out the biomechanics of the new position he threw in at the end. It was impressive.
After, as he searched for something to wear, he decided he needed his hit of our favorite chinese dish. You know a craving is bad when the fixation is there long before we arrive at the restaurant. I love the place because it’s comfortable. He said “we should split it because it’s late.” I thought he meant drive separate cars, which would have made sense, but he meant the dish.
On the drive into town, he sorted through his mail, which we picked up en route. I handed him the aux cable for his iphone and he got to play “name that tune,” which he finds incredibly amusing since it’s really “stump the girlfriend” and he succeeds about 99% of the time. His musical taste is improving markedly (thanks to his coach, pandora, and his desire to prove to me he does not have “appallingly bad taste”), but we’re still miles apart in our taste and knowledge.
At the restaurant, he took a call related to his trip (apologetically, but his reason for taking it was acceptable), so I ordered for us. It was a stressful conversation for him (the person with whom he was speaking is so crazy we spent a good 10 minutes at the end of dinner attempting to diagnose her. Since neither of us ever even took a psych class, we settled on sociopath). After ascertaining she was okay, which is why he took the call, he kept saying “I am at dinner, I will call you later.” I took that opportunity to glance at my phone and I found a text from BP and two calls, so I called him back while BFD was still talking. We never do this, but the calls were reasonably important and relatively short.
Dinner was good, and we spent most of the time talking about his trip again in detail as he tried to suss out exactly how it all went awry. He also told me in detail who was there and what the sleeping arrangements had been.
He asked for my advice in how to handle the lingering tension from the sociopath’s behavior. I told him, look, you will have no impact on her, if that’s your goal. If you want to feel better about it or if you want to reinforce to your team a message, then do it, but she will not benefit at all.
Because we’d gotten such a late start, we lingered less than normal. We usually have long meandering talks there, but this was much shorter after we finished eating. I drove back to his place and he again tried to stump me with music, which given the weirdness of his collection, is not difficult. Still, because of who I am, he loves to do it.
I did say to him as we entered the highway, “is it hard for you to know I am SO much cooler than you?” He responded, in normal BFD fashion: “if I cared at all about being cool . . . and put any kind of thought into it, I would be MUCH cooler than you.” I am still laughing, even as I type this.
He believes it, and it is not true.
When we arrived back at his place, we continued our game in the car, and then talked schedule for the week. He’s here, but busy. He walked me through each day’s things, naming the people with whom he is having lunch and dinner and identifying the purpose (interesting new element for him to be so very specific, but then, they are women and I think he learned a valuable lesson on his trip). I asked when we’d see each other and he said, he just did not know, but he was here all week. We kissed in the car, and he headed in, and I headed home to a late conference call.