After an hour of preening (which is my top preen-time since I’ve hit my 30s), I spritzed on my foody-smelling body spray and headed to the airport to pick up BoyToy (BT). I was filled with trepidation, dread, and excitement. The usual emotions connected with BT. The unusual part – I’d had a couple of days to think about this, so I was buzzing with nervousness. I do much better with him when he calls and gives me an hour’s notice that he’s coming into town. No time to stress or to set any type of expectation that is sure to be shattered.
His flight was delayed so I drove slowly in circles for about 20 minutes. During which time he called me on my cell about 5 times, reporting that they had just landed, he was heading to baggage, then that his bag was lost, etc etc – then I almost drove right past him when he finally did come outside b/c I was not expecting him to be in a suit. Sheesh, I’ve never seen him in anything but soccer shorts and once or twice in jeans. In five years. So of COURSE I thought he worked at the airport when some man in a suit on a cell phone started waving me down in front of the terminal. It briefly flashed through my mind that perhaps they thought I was a terrorist since I’d driven by so many times without accomplishing anything. But no, it was BT, on the phone with the baggage people. Anticlimactic, but I expected that. It usually is.
Sitting next to him in the small space of my car was intoxicating, as always. I don’t know what it is with him. We have nothing major to say to one another, yet we have this magnet thing going on that we can’t seem to kick. Once I got okay with the knowledge that he is not and never will be my soulmate, things have been much smoother. Even his moving out of state hasn’t been too traumatic, since we only saw each other spottily anyway. Anyway. Now we have these sporadic visits. To look forward to, or not.
We went to his house and hung out for a while, then went to dinner, then I went home. Alone. He hugged me goodbye and thanked me for picking him up at the airport, said maybe we could get together again before he left town, blahblahblah, and that was the last I saw/heard from him. I’ll get another phone call in a month to 6 weeks and the cycle will crank up again. The point of my writing about this is that it FELT different this time. I was not overly excited to see him, although the chemistry is still there. I did not overly enjoy my time with him; he didn’t really make me laugh, and that’s usually a dealbreaker for me. It was all just very “eh”. Mediocre. Blah. All of it. Out of habit, I felt a crushing sadness as I drove away from his house and headed towards my own, but it went away after about 5 minutes. I have no more tears to cry for BT. I even told him this once, when we quarreled before he left for NM. That I had no drama left to give him. No more tears, no more emotion. Our staying in contact has been more of a comfortable habit than anything else. But again, this time it felt different.
I haven’t given him much thought at all since I saw him exactly a week ago. In fact, this time last week I was already back at home curled up in my bed watching CourtTV, letting the serial killer drama lull me to sleep. So all the preening? I guess that was more for me than for him, and it seems pretty pointless in retrospect. Am I leaving out part of the story? Well, of course I am – my whole life isn’t in this blog, only the parts I feel like sharing. But the thing I’m getting to tonight is that hmmm, I need to process the blah nothingness that I felt. I don’t even know if the chemistry was enough to make it worth ever seeing him again. I felt let down and even a little annoyed at the end of our evening. Ask me again in two weeks, it could all feel different. It’s important to note also that I’m primarily driven and controlled by my hormones, and they are particularly crazy this week, if you know what I mean. And no, I’m not blogging about that either. This time.