Revisting Closed Doors

Door

It seems I often come up with my best segues into what I want to write, while I am in the shower. Unfortunately as it happens, by the time I towel dry, blow dry and primp for the day those same amazing thoughts have usually flown out the window, leaving me with nothing but the core of my subject. This is one of those days, so you get today’s basics, just like that – basic.

Saturday night was a good one. Last minute barbeque and had a couple of friends over. It felt like the first real honest to God meal I had in a week, but it was still very smart cooking and eating. I guess after a week of all that behaving I felt I needed to let loose a bit, so when the last friend arrived, we decided to commit to making it a drinking night. Fortunately I had enough to eat beforehand that for once I wasn’t drinking on an empty stomach, but we are setting the scene for some slight inebriation. Hell who’s kidding who, it was more than slight. I recall everything, but I was very happily in my cups.

We’ve got good music going. My upstairs neighbor has come down for a bit. Laughing about ridiculous things that only the slightly buzzed or crazed can find humour in. Weather was warm. Everything was really falling into place.

So imagine my reaction when my phone went off at nearly midnight with a text from TYO. I actually had to read it a couple of times, because being more than slightly drunk, I wasn’t sure if I was comprehending the message. I hadn’t deleted his number, so fortunately I at least knew who was texting me. Thank God because the message was vague enough I might not have figured it out otherwise. Or I would have wondered if it was him, because I have very few valley area codes in my contacts list. As it hit me it was him, I sort of went thru a bewilderment, angry, delighted phase. My hungry-as-hell Ego was angered that the sonofabitch thought he could just text me so vaguely, months after no communication. But also Delighted for reasons I am not completely sure of. I only know that after reading it a couple of times I had a huge smile on my face. Maybe I was thinking, SCORE! On the sex-front, but honestly I think I was just happy he had thought of me. I showed it to my friend who had been around when things took that slight keel between he and I. This wasn’t a major sink shipping when it ended. More like a dingy that struck a rock and just slowly sunk to the bottom of the bay. But I also can’t lie and say that his dropping off the face of the earth the way he did, didn’t sting a bit initially. She took my phone and firmly told me, “Do not answer this.”

I’d like to say that when I am finished with something, or someone I am done for good, but my history would show otherwise. Truth be told that never does something look so good as when you haven’t had it around for a while. And yes from time to time, that would apply to men. Three times I have gone back to the well; One was heartbreaker the first time, and then again the second time. The other was a dalliance, and the third was The One. The secret there is to have had enough time pass that there are no hurt feelings in play on either side, and that a mutual flame of lust or it’s equivalent is there. In retrospect, none of them ever worked out, which has me believing now that if it doesn’t stick the first time, it won’t any time after that.

I didn’t reply. Strictly out of pride. Had he just ended things, instead of leaving them hanging there to dangle in the breeze, I might have answered him. I wanted to reply. Drunk me, really, really wanted to. I came up with all sorts of great one liners, that in the daylight were all pretty lame. Fortunately my friend absolutely kept rein on me, and basically forbid it that night. My self-respect thanked her the next morning. My dignity was relieved. My ego was pouting, and that part of me that absolutely must have an explanation for every single thing in life is furious we didn’t get our answers; drunk or sober. I have to admit I already know the answer. Whatever was going on in his life before has either ended, or gotten boring, or who cares.  And that the sex, as good as it may have been, really isn’t worth the effort for me to fall back into that again.I think I just wanted to hear it from him.

The truth is I wouldn’t have heard any truths from him. I believe there was some pretty major stuff he was not sharing in our “Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell” thing we had going. The very best thing I did at the time was to quietly close the door.
close doors

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