*facepalm*
I missed a call from him Monday and he didn’t leave a voice mail. I tried calling him back but he was busy at work.
Tuesday I tried calling him once, but he wasn’t there.
Wednesday I emailed him and this was the short exchange:
me: did you try calling me Monday?
him: I did
me: okay well I tried calling you back but you were with a customer
him: I was
me: okay cool
him: sorry a little busy now….
I left it at that. He wanted to be a bitch, fine. He was so busy that he could reply to my emails within a minute of sending them. Yep, real busy. Here’s an idea—fuck off and stop calling me!
This part right here—the part where I’m a “really good friend” and he “loves” me for it, it’s a facade now. I think I enjoy the idea of having him to talk to sometimes more than actually talking to him. I missed his laugh today—I heard it in my mind when I was driving in the icy snow. That laconic chuckle that he would use when he was in a good mood.
Having to drive three miles in the blustering winds yesterday evening made me cringe at the fact that I drove over 100 miles round trip in a snowstorm 100x worse than what I drove in tonight. Only for him. Because I was in a horrible place in my life and I couldn’t have asked for anything more than what he did—told me to come see him. Sigh. I can’t believe it’s been a year already. Time flies.
I wish there was something new and exciting to write about. I wish I had a job and I wish I could afford to take a vacation to Texas. But neither will happen any time soon.
