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Monday, January 12, 2004

I'm free, to do what I - why's my phone ringing?

Monday, January 12, 2004 By , No comments

Me: Hello?

Chris: Why did you just leave like that?
(silence)
Chris: So, that's it?
Me: I don't know what else there is that I can say.
Chris: Oookay. Well, have a nice life.
Me: You, too.
*Cllick*

Ten minutes later...


Me: Hello?
Chris (sniffling): Why are you doing this?
Me (sigh): Chris, I think it's obvious that we aren't getting along.
Chris: You left some stuff over here.
Me: Like what?
Chris: Shampoo, conditioner, laundry detergent.
Me: Okay, well, I'm going to work. I'll pick it up later.
Chris: Alright. Bye.
Me: Bye
*Click*

Twenty minutes later...


Me: Hello?
Chris: Are you sure this is what you want?
Me: Yes.
Chris: 100 percent?
Me: No.
Chris: Do you think it's right to make a decision when you're not sure about it?
Me: It's just time.
Chris: Fine. See ya.
*Click*

Twenty minutes after that, I'm at work, and feeling like crap about the whole thing. I need the money, but I give up my shift so I can go talk to him in person. This was no way to end a relationship, no matter how frustrating it is.

Thirty minutes later, I'm at his apartment. He answers the door, tears already welling up in his eyes. Why?! All we do is fight. But I can't stand to see him cry, especially over something this stupid, like, me. I stumble through an apology for the manner in which I broke it off.


Me: I just came by to talk to you in person, and to apologize for the way this went down (went down? What, am I a rapper now?). It wasn't right of me. You deserve more respect than I gave you, and I'm really sorry for hurting your feelings.

Chris nods.

We stand there while tears roll down his face. I am really, really uncomfortable. I stare at the floor. I look up. He silently accusing me. I hug him. He gives great hugs. I wish he would do something annoying right now.


Me: Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?
Chris (whispering): You can change your mind.

I gotta get out of here. He slowly releases me. I step back. He sobs. Good grief.

Me: I am really, really sorry.
He nods.
Me: I should go.

He shrugs.
I turn to leave.
He grabs me and hugs me again. Crap! It's a Magical Hug of Mind Control! I step out of it and close the door behind me.


Four hours later, I check my messages. He left one about 45 minutes after I left his house: "I miss you already, and I'm just calling to ask you to have some compassion and come back into my life. I'm not going to beg, but I love you and I know you love me - even though you never told me. But I know you do. Just... call me. Please."


I call him back.
Because I'm an idiot.

Chris: Hello?
Me: Hey.
Chris: Hey.
Me: I didn't feel right not returning your phone call.
Chris: Oh.
Me: I wish I could do something to make this easier. It's not easy for me, either, you know.
Chris: You still left some stuff over here.

Crap. Why can't I remember this stuff when I go over to get it in the first place?

Me: Okay... I'll come get it in a couple of hours.
Chris: I'm going to sleep at 1.
Me: I'll be there long before then.
Chris: I'll see you later, then.
Me: Okay.
*Click*

I go over around 11. We joke around for a little bit. He shows me his apartment is all packed up. I tell him I am impressed, that I've never seen his apartment this clean. Sitting on the arm of his couch, he frogs me in the arm. I punch him back. His hand is on my thigh, rubbing up and down... can't... move... must... not... touch... him... why are my hands on his arms? Stop rubbing him back! It's what he wants! He's going to eat your brain!


Chris: I notice you're inching closer.
Me: I didn't mean to.
Chris: Oh, really?
Me: (a little breathless) No...

He hugs me. Kisses my cheek. My neck. I push him gently away. He sighs and drops his arms to his sides.


Me: I should go.

He follows me to the door, hands me the stuff I had once again forgotten. Oh, yeah. That's what I came here for. I put the stuff in my trunk, close it, and suddenly feel lightheaded. I lean on the trunk, swaying. The feeling passes after a moment. I stumble to my door. He's suddenly beside me, like a ninja. Where'd he come from? I didn't hear his door open or close, or hear him walk up.

Chris: Are you positive that this is what you want?
I nod.
Chris: You're sure?
I nod.
Chris: 100 percent?
Me: I think so.
Chris: You seem pretty confused right now.
I'm not confused. You just my brain stop working. Wait - what was I saying?
Me: I'm sorry. I don't mean to give you the wrong impression.
Chris: Are you sure you aren't doing this for an easier transition? Because I'm moving?
Me: No.
Chris: You're not sure?
Me: No, I am sure.
Chris: You don't sound sure.
Me: What?
Chris: I think you're too confused to make a decision like this. I think you have a lot to think about, a lot to consider, a lot of confusion. You should really think about how you feel about me, the way you felt when you came over. You have a lot of thinking to do.

Oh, wait. NOW I remember why I don't want to date him anymore. Because he's a condescending asshole. Suddenly, it's much easier.

Me: I have been thinking about it. We don't really get along that well. I like you, but we spend a lot of time being angry with each other.
Chris: Well, you should still think about it.
Me (firmly): I have.
Chris (tears in his eyes again): Call me.

I nod. He walks away. No way I'm calling him.

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