Mi Colombiano Part Two of Two

 

We will pick up where we left off yesterday. I just assured you jealousy should be your dress color at what took place when we decided we were a couple. 😉 Here ya’ go, the rest of the story……..

 

Three nights later he asked me, point-blank, if I had sex with Sunday Morning after he and I met. I was honest with him. He was angry, but also understood he had no real ground to stand on. We were in a bad place, and we had never had any clear definition to our relationship. We had a very serious conversation the following weekend about all of the reasons I didn’t trust him before, he seemed stunned.

It was also the first time I told him I loved him. We spent the next two months in a pretty blissful place. We decided to look for an apartment together. We were moving into a serious potential future together. Then, everything fell apart because some asshole soldier decided to text me a Tatum Channing style pic, my response being “Wow, really?!” meaning ….why the fuck would you send that to me??….turns out this translation is not universal. The soldier then added to it by suggesting we should go out sometime. Through an insane course of events, mi Colombiano saw these. He wasn’t snooping, I wasn’t hiding them, becaause I had nothing to hide, I wasn’t interested in anyone but him. To say he lost it would be an understatement of epic proportions. He went fucking nuts! There were a lot of ugly things said that night, he was done, I was crushed.

Three nights later, in an effort to be civil, we had dinner. The man I was in love with looked at me from across the table and told me I would be easily replaced. That is not something you ever forget. I still can’t write it without crying. I wish I could defend him, say it came from a place of anger, but that isn’t who he is. He just meant it, believed it.

We ended the dinner re-introducing ourselves to one another, shaking hands and exchanging names. A fresh start, we would just see where it took us. Two days later, we were back together. It was wonderful and easy and seemed right.

Two weeks after, he sent me a text from a hotel room in Tennessee, drunk and talking to his brother, he decided he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t move past it. Couldn’t deploy and wonder what I was doing back here. I was visiting my parents when the messages began to come in, with a rapid-fire quickness. I sat at the table, my dad sitting a foot from me, trying not to seem upset. Leaving soon afterwards, resolving right then, this time was different. I wouldn’t let him do it again.

When he received mail at my house the following week, I sent him a text and told him to have one of his guys meet me to pick it up. I bagged all of the stuff he had given me along with the mail. I needed to clear him out of my life.

I started going to therapy after the first break up, it was a saving grace during the second one. I wrote him one last email. Simple, to the point, closure.

Then I waited to feel whole again. Then, his deployment day came, then it went, and I never saw him or heard from him. The amount of tears I expelled that day is ridiculous. Then, he received mail again. I knew it was important. I emailed, to let him know. He sent his APO. I broke, bought some of his favorite cookies, printed the weather report for the region of Afghanistan he is in and scribbled a lot of nonsensical comments. Sent it all to him.

He emailed a thank you, only added some additional stuff in there.

Then he received more mail. We went through the process again, and this time I included some of his favorite candy bars. I keep telling myself it’s just because I have a soft spot for our men and women in harm’s way, which I definitely do, but in truth, it is because I don’t trust his family to take the time to send him anything and I can’t bear the thought of him being there and receiving nothing. Not him.

Three days ago, while I was busy scrubbing my new house, he tried to talk to me on GoogleChat. When I saw, twenty minutes too late, the messages, I just sat and cried, again.

I learned a lot from this relationship. Things like, communication really is essential to anything. If we had communicated with one another about our feelings, suspicions, fears, and expectations, each and every time we felt them, we would be in a very different place now.

I need to stop expecting people to disappoint me. I allowed myself to become conditioned to disappointment, now I expect it to be part of every package. It doesn’t have to be, I’m allowed to set the bar. I don’t have to settle.

I can’t receive love, if I’m busy defending myself from it.

I am capable of giving myself to someone, completely. Or at least, I was, I hope to be again someday. After all, this whole blog is based on my search for romance, love, the final One. I have no idea when or if I will find him. Maybe I already have and we just don’t know it, but we will take the journey, all of you and I.

To Elly, I did it! I made it through the whole thing, with honesty, tears and a lot of snotty, nasty tissues piled beside me!

Mi Colombiano Part One of Two

I have started this post over a dozen times. Each one ending in deletion. I keep remembering something my friend Elly wrote a while back about honesty in writing. I keep asking myself, “Are you really ready to just lay it out there? Say it all? Because if not, you are doing your readers and yourself a disservice.”

This is the reason we are here. Him. Us. The absence of us. The end of what we both treasured, but neither of us maintained. The reason I am seeking romance on the open internet. The reason I have set new standards of what I can and cannot accept. The reason I evaluated my fault and accepted the things in myself needing to change in order to maintain a healthy, happy relationship.

He is also a member of The Cast, as even from thousands of miles away, he keeps popping in and out. I would love to tell you I am over him. I would love to tell you I don’t cry with every new email. I would love to tell you…..but fucking Elly keeps popping up in my brain…so I will tell you, as briefly as I can, why. If I am able to convey it, at least a portion of the Us there used to be, then you will understand.

I don’t prescribe to the “love at first sight” theory, and it wasn’t. It was attraction. Pure, exhilarating, heart-stopping attraction. He came looking for a phone charger and left two hours later with a new phone, complete with my number programmed in it. Two hours later, we were having a glass of wine and laughing together at a local eatery. I still have the pictures I taught him to send, after he insisted he wanted the first pictures he took on his new phone to be of the two of us.

He had been sent to Fort Knox by mistake and would be leaving three days later for Georgia. We spent as much time as my work schedule would allow until he left. His last words to me before he left were, “We Will see each other again. I will make sure of it.” (for added sexiness, he has a very thick Colombian accent, I’m talking , holy hotness accent!!)

Two days after he left, my phone rang while I was at work, it was him. Despite myself, I was excited to answer the call. “Hey sexy, guess what? I’m not supposed to be in Georgia. They have my orders all screwed up. I will be back at Knox permanently in two days.”

I don’t remember my response, but I remember being genuinely happy. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to see him a lot. And see him a lot, I did. We had dinner the night he returned……..and the next night, and the night after.

We got into a routine, dinner a few weeknights, then spend all weekend together. We laughed, talked, explored, experienced…….we were both very happy. We were also in a strange place. Neither of us ever mentioning where we were on the relationship scale. Were we? Weren’t we?

Over the next three months, this odd balance of perfection in moments, and suspicion and doubt in others, became our normal cycle. I was falling in love with him, but didn’t trust him. Worst of all, we didn’t talk about any of it. We just spent our time together enjoying each other’s company. That was something we were good at, enjoying each other. We spent countless hours talking……..subject matter wasn’t important, we just enjoyed talking to one another.

The intimacy between us was remarkable, not just on a physical level (which I promise, was fucking phenomenal) but also on a true, emotional level. Yet, nothing was ever uttered about us, as a couple. We were the definition of limbo.

He was leaving for 20 days in mid-December to go home to Colombia, spend Christmas with his daughter and see his mother, sister, etc.

The night before he left went all sideways and he left for the trip with us not even saying goodbye. The entire week leading up to the trip had gone very poorly. I really wasn’t sure we would continue to see one another when he returned. I was shocked by how incredibly sad this made me, but had the holiday to focus on and keep from going all crazy about it.

Then Christmas came and our family had some rough times hit. I made bad choices. I ran from my feelings for him, in his absence, and leaned on Sunday Morning for the support role. It was as much to prove to myself I didn’t need him as it was about anything else.

Then he returned, things were strained, but good when he first returned. Then there was a horrendously awkward moment where I was in the middle of telling Sunday Morning that mi Colombiano and I were seeing one another and he walked in, bringing me Starbucks. (because he did sweet little things like that, as an excuse to see me and a way to make my work days seem more bearable) There was an immediate tension between the two of them I didn’t understand, but it was palpable.

When he walked away, Sunday Morning shook his head, told me I was making a mistake, and walked away. The minute I got in the car after work, mi Colombiano asked me how I knew Sunday Morning. I told him part of the truth, we had been friends for a long time. “I know him.” was all he said in response.

That night, while we were lying in bed, he asked me to tell him something he didn’t know about himself. I thought for a moment and said, “You give me butterflies every single time you kiss me, still, after all of these months.”  He pulled me closer to him and told me he was glad. We were both very quiet for a few minutes, then he quietly said, “I want you to be just mine, can we do that? Do you want that?”  I kissed him and nodded, “Very much, I want that very much.” I’m not going to tell you what happened next, but you should be seriously fucking envious. 😉

Part one of two, Part two to be published tomorrow

Sunday Morning, The Wounded Child

Our next cast member is Sunday Morning. If I had to use three words to describe Sunday Morning, they would be; fraternity, sexy, incapable-of-communicating-his-damn-feelings!(yes, I just went over three words, but see the first post and remember, I Break Rules, people!)

Sunday Morning and I have been acquainted for just at a year now. The day I met him, I was a little captivated. His cocky, but friendly demeanor, his playfulness, his intelligence….he was a refreshing change.

We occasionally ran into one another and would have brief, innocuous conversations, but never anything more. He is about 11 years younger than me and not really someone I would have expected any interest from.

Around late November of last year, he showed up and just hung out to chat for a couple of minutes. While he was there, one of my employees was picked up by her boyfriend. The two guys spoke briefly, as it turned out, they worked together.

Six hours later, my employee was telling me her boyfriend was texting her, asking a lot of strange questions about me and the guy I was seeing at the time. When she pressed him on why, he explained when he returned to the office, Sunday Morning had started grilling him.

He asked permission to give him my number. I gladly supplied it. (yes, I was seeing someone at the time, but he is a whole book unto himself for all of the confusion, miscommunication and heartache involved there)

I had a text from Sunday Morning within ten minutes. In fact, we texted pretty steadily for about a week. After the week, he called and asked if I was free for coffee. I was, and if I hadn’t been, I would have worked that shit out! (I did mention his good qualities, right? Funny, sexy, big enough to pick me up and lift me onto…well, whatever he wants me to be on top of..)

Coffee was nice, but he had leave coming up soon and would be gone for a few weeks. To his parent’s, then home for one night, and off to his sister’s. We kept in touch through text and phone calls, all seeming more ‘friend oriented’ than romantic. That was very cool with me, as I didn’t need to add to the chaos that my other entanglement had become.

Then, on Christmas night, while texting, I told him what a rotten day it had been. My father had been hospitalized and I was very scared and feeling very alone. He called immediately.

His schedule had been set so he would be driving home from his parent’s on the 29th, and flying out on the 30th. After a series of texts and calls, bad news relating to my father’s health, and a general sense we were becoming closer friends, Sunday Morning left his parent’s on the 28th, he was at my house late that evening, having made very good time in the snow. I never asked him How Early he had to leave his parents to get there. I knew he had come a day early, just to spend it with me and make me feel better.

He took my mind off of things for the day and a half he was there. 😉

He stayed in consistent contact while with his sister and her family and it was nice. There was a sense of friendship between us, but also, it turned out, a lot of chemistry.

The night he flew home, he came straight to see me. We spent a few hours together, but he needed to get back, unpack and be up at 5:30am.

After he left that night, the face of things changed, considerably, with the other entanglement.

We continued to text and talk, but I kept the conversation very friend-centric and had no free time to see him.

He came to see me at work. While he was there and I was explaining what had happened with ‘other entanglement’, ‘other entanglement’ showed up with coffee to surprise me. I was surprised, as were both of them. When ‘other entanglement’ walked away, Sunday Morning stood up, smiled at me and said, “You are way too fucking good for him” I laughed it off and he said he would catch me later.

It was a couple of months before we would see one another again. ‘other entanglement’ and I had become very serious, then non-existent in that time frame. ( I know, but I’ve warned you, whole book there) When I heard from Sunday Morning, it was like sunshine after a month of darkness.

His playful, carefree, totally nonsense sort of attitude was just what I needed. We saw each other the night he sent a text message. He told me he had been aware of the relationship and when it fell apart. He said he knew it would, and that was his reason for calling. I told him everything, bad decisions, hurt feelings, devastation, all of it. He listened in a completely unsympathetic manner. He made me laugh at myself, the situation, and my reactions.

We enjoyed our time together that evening. 😉

We saw each other sporadically for a couple of weeks, then one night he cancelled plans on me at the last minute. No explanation, no advance notice, just BOOM! I’m not going to make it. No biggie, until he did it again, with an explanation.

Texts became fewer with more time in between. I really just assumed he was seeing someone else and it had gotten serious, or at least serious enough he didn’t want to see me.

Then, I sent him a message a week before he was scheduled to deploy. I received a reply almost instantly. “My deployment date has been changed, I leave tomorrow night. I was just thinking about you.”

I was stunned. Somehow, the whole, “I was just thinking about you” comment shocked me as much as his early departure. Before I could process and respond, another message came, “I want to see you, can we make that happen?”

“Of course. I can’t believe you are leaving tomorrow.” Lame, but it was all I had, I was shell-shocked. I had missed him, but had steered clear, thinking he was seeing someone. Now, he was leaving.

We made arrangements to see one another and grab a bite as soon as I got out of work. I left a little early. We didn’t eat. We talked and ‘stuff’ for about an hour at his place, then he asked if I could give him about an hour and he wanted to stay with me, at my place, until he had to report for duty the following morning. (before you assume the worst, he needed more like three hours, because he still needed to pack most of his gear, but he said he was going to hurry) I agreed.

Two hours later we were together at my place. It was a little surreal. It was very different. He was being oddly sentimental, he made several comments about wasted time. He hadn’t been seeing someone else, he just didn’t want to get involved with me right before he had to leave. I didn’t sleep at all that night, partially because my mind was racing, partially because this giant man was gripping me like I was his only way to stay alive.

We said goodbye as if he were leaving to go home, shower and go to work on a regular day. No big, emotional scene, no professions of anything not yet felt, but it was still a goodbye with the intent to see one another again.

I think about, and worry for, him daily. Not the way you worry for the man you are in love with, but the way you worry about someone you love. I get very frustrated with him when I think about the wasted time, but he was very frustrated with me, as well.

While I am certainly not waiting for his return, he still has to be counted as a factor in the romance equation.

Is he going to be mature enough, at some point, to be in an actual relationship? If we were going to feel more than the general affection we feel, would it have already happened? Can you please explain to me why I am so attracted to a man who likes to high five after sex? (not joking, that happened!)