Skip to main content

Lost???

He says he's lost.

Against my better judgement, I hit him up to say, "Happy Father's Day."

It took him a minute, but he hit me back and we had a conversation. My bad.

After telling me that he needed to come here and get some clothes, I asked if he was good. He said that he guessed. When I asked what that meant, he said, "I'm completely lost."

I asked, "Why do you feel that way? Isn't this what you wanted?"

He responded, "I don't know."

Note to self -- if you haven't completely thought out what you want, don't do anything to jeopardize what you currently have. The way I see it, it was cute to act a fool when you knew I was here for you. Now you know that I have absolutely no problem looking out for myself -- without you -- and you don't know how to take it.

Of course, his feelings could have absolutely nothing to do with me. Believe me, he's got enough to be lost about without including me in the mix. But you know me...I want it to be about me. I want him to feel lost without me. Like I feel without him.

My cousin has been in town this week, and it's been a welcome change. But she's leaving tomorrow, and I'm afraid that the emotions I've been fighting all week are going to come up again. And now that he's said this foolishness...

I just don't know.

Maybe we're both lost...

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

He's Gone...For Real

My uncle died. He actually ceased to live. I don't know how to handle this. Even though he was my mother's brother, he was so much more than that to me. He was the coolest cat on the block, He set the standard that every man had to meet. He was the one I compared every man in my life to. For all intents and purposes, he was my de facto dad. I am stunned. I feel like someone knocked the wind out of my body. I grew up watching him. If he sat up straight, I wanted to sit up straight. I once caught him standing up to pee. I thought I'd do that when I grew up, too. (You can just imagine that conversation). That's the thing...he never shied away from my craziness. When I discovered what a father was -- at the tender age of five -- I purposed in my heart to find one for myself. I asked every man I knew, including him, if they'd be my daddy. He said, "I can't be your dad. I'm your uncle." When I pressed, he gently explained that he already had a significan...

A Middle Aged Rant

I am single. I’ve never had a husband. I’ve never given birth to a child. I’ve never lived with a man over six months. I am 54. I’m not classically pretty. I’m overweight. I’m not very tall. My brother says I’m a unicorn. My friends are kind enough not to make me feel small. My mother mentions in passing that she wants me to find a husband. I try not to be sad about my state. I’ve lived a life that some would find enviable. I had my dream job, met and interviewed great people, made great friends, and traveled all over the world. I have a new career that I find oddly fulfilling. Men don’t always like that. Some of them are jealous because I’m not easily impressed. Some are jealous because I’ve done things they haven’t. Some are jealous because I’ve lived on both coasts. I don’t know what to do. I can’t change my life – not that I want to. I can’t change my past – not that I want to. I can’t change myself –not that I want to. I just want someone to see me, not the image I present. I want...

I Own My Tears

I own my tears. I used this as a hashtag on a Facebook post. I was talking about the movie, "The Fault in Our Stars." If you've seen it, you know what I mean, and I won't spoil it for you. Of course, you know me -- it's deeper than that. I need to say it out loud... I own my tears. New Boo meant the world to me. He really did. Our relationship meant the world to me. It really, really did. And now it's over and he's gone -- seemingly for good. That makes me cry more than I want to, and more than I have ever imagined I would. And while I hate it, I need to do this. I need to mourn this thing in its entirety because it has truly changed my life. I own my tears. I own the fact that I am hurt. I own the fact that I'm mourning a relationship that I wanted to work more than life itself. I wanted to be a part of a couple, and eventually a family. That may well happen for me one day. Today, though, it doesn't look likely. So yes, I cry. And you ...