Tuesday, October 23, 2007

Lady Waiting (Revisited)

On July 13, 2006, four months before EXBF and I broke up, I wrote the following post and then promptly deleted it after he freaked out at me for sharing "our issues." He felt that me writing about our problems was a violation of his privacy, and even though I felt like it was productive for me to express my feelings through writing about them, I acquiesced to his request, pulled the post, and refrained - for the most part - from writing about things that made me upset while I was with him.

One of the many things he never understood that what I was writing about was not just him. When I wrote this post I was writing about my feelings. I was working them out and I was also imagining that other women had probably had similar experiences, where the actions of their partners fell short of their expectations. I wasn't blaming him totally for this incident, or even for my feelings of hurt. I was exploring the situation and how it had made me feel and I was working out what I thoughts about it.

Reading it now, almost a year and a half later, I think I was far too kind to him - as I was many times. I was there; he wasn't. That was the problem. Not my sensitivity, but his lack thereof. And, beneath that, his lack of love. If you truly and honestly love someone, you treat them with care. You think about their feelings and happiness. You consider them. During most of our relationship, he consistently considered one thing, and it wasn't me. When he said he "didn't think," he didn't mean he didn't think. He meant he didn't think of me. I didn't get it then, but I do now. And, now, when I read this, I want to run back to that apartment, grab that girl that I used to be and help her start packing.

He never deserved her, and she always deserved a lot more. I just wish she had figured that out sooner...
Art found here.


It wasn't just twenty minutes.

It's that we didn't have any alone time together during the family vacation, and that I've worked like a dog for the last six days since coming back.

It's that during that time you went out with your friends, relaxed, and had fun while I sat at my desk and came home exhausted with no time for anything except crawling into bed and going to sleep.

It's that on Tuesday night at 9:30 pm you called me and asked if I minded if you went out for a late dinner with friends, which was thoughtful and sweet, and I had to tell you that I didn't because I was still sitting at my desk and could not have done anything with you, or anyone, even though I wanted to.

It's that when I asked you what time you would be home after your late dinner on Tuesday night, you said "twelve thirty or one," which made me angry because I thought to myself, is it really necessary go to a three-hour dinner?, and doesn't he realize that if he doesn't come home until 1 am, there's not even a chance that we'll see each other while we're both awake?

It's that I swallowed those feelings and got over them, and instead started looking forward to Wednesday night, a night that we have decided is supposed to be "our" night to enjoy one another, and to put each other first, above all other distractions.

It's that I told you how much I was looking forward to seeing you Wednesday night, and you told me the same, and that we agreed to be home at 8 pm sharp.

It's that we flirted and I told you in no uncertain terms that I was going to have two glasses of champagne after work and race home to be with you so that you could take advantage of me, and that we joked about the window of opportunity and our mutual excitement.

It's that during our flirting and joking, I said, "You're not going to make me wait, right?," and I was dead serious, and you said, "of course not."

It's that I was having fun talking with my work colleagues for once, while drinking my two glasses of champagne, but was keeping track of the time, and that I dropped everything, rushed out the door, and hopped into a cab, the moment I glanced down at my watch and saw that it was 7:45 pm.

It's that I called you from the cab feeling frisky and happy, missing you, and looking forward to seeing you in a few minutes but that you didn't pick up.

It's that three messages later, feeling disappointed, I walked into our apartment, which was quiet and dark, and you weren't there with candles and a bottle of wine waiting for me.

It's that it would have been okay if you were there, even without the candles and wine, because what I really wanted was you, but I couldn't even have that.

It's that when you called a little after 8 and told me that you were at the gym, it didn't seem like you realized that you should have been home when you said you were going to be home.

It's that when you finally came home at 8:25, you were sweaty from the gym and you sat down to eat a Cuban sandwich, neither of which made it appear as if the most important thing that night to you was me or getting close to me.

It's that I've seen you be on time for work, firm events, going to the gym, meeting your friends, and going to the movies, so know that you are capable of being on time when you want to be.

It's that I really, really wanted to be with you, and that I wanted you to want to be with me as much I wanted to be with you.

12 comments:

Wood said...

When you put it that way, I get it. I get why 20 minutes was so important. Sorry I didn't get it so well when we talked on the phone last night.

Buttercup said...

It's ok Wood, I loved talking to you. I miss you (and the bug).

wordnerd said...

Ah Buttercup..this is a tough one...it's so contextual...20 minutes at almost any other time...would just have been 20 minutes...but during this time...it might as well have been 2 hours...it was the expectation of something....or someone..that didn't materialize...

This sucks...sorry....plain and simple. I hope you were able to communicate this to Raj as well as you were able to write it down.

Bean said...

It's ironic right at this moment, the song "Always On Time" just started playing on my computer. It's B.S. to me. I am sorry that he hurt you. I know it hurts like hell to believe Raj will hold a date just to be let down. You must realize it isn't you, he missed out. But you gotta try again once you feel he is worthy for a try and don't give up. I'm sorry that he did that Buttercup.

Gypsy said...

Ugh, I hate that. L is frankly not so great with the whole when you say you're going to do something, do it thing. I know he has good intentions, but it's frustrating as hell. I hope that Raj was able to see his error and make it up to you.

SisterFriend said...

I'm heart-broken for you. I hope all is well and that you two could talk it out. You are special. A treasure.

Buttercup said...

It's so interesting to read your comments from back then. You were all there, amazingly, supporting me but at the same time also being so kind to him. He didn't deserve that either from any of you.

Starshine said...

I remember this post. I don't know if any of us had any idea just how awful things were for you at the time. But I can DEFINITELY see how this would have hurt you to the core.

I'm glad you're getting to purge this stuff out.

Sending love and hugs to you, friend.

Lisa said...

Reading this just hurts my heart. My ex had the same thoughtless way about him sometimes - he could think of lots of things but never could consider how it would make me feel or how it would impact our relationship.

That's a rotten place to be in, and you deserve much better.

Sparky Duck said...

well its just plain obvious that men are idiots. A buzzed woman waiting for me at home would easily trump a cuban sandwich.

M said...

sounds like even if he wouldn't admit it, he had some sort of passive aggressive reason for being late. he could have tried harder. i think some men (not all) are just not schooled in the art of empathy.

Starrlight said...

Sparky, you are a rare gem.

As for not writing about your issues,

I hope you learned from this. No one knows who you are and those that DO know you, well they probably know what goes on in your life already. So let it out, girl!

What an ass for making you bottle up your emotions. Heck my ex, who I do still talk to, reads my blog or at least knows of it, and I don't hold any punches when it comes to him.