Let's Just Say...

Supposing I've had this friend for a long time. Since 1990. Supposing we've tried to date several times, but it didn't work out for one reason or another. Supposing we've slept together only three times over the 17 years that we've known each other and supposing that after the first two times he totally disappeared off the face of the earth and I was unbelievably hurt. Considering the first time we were together was only a few months after the last time I was raped and the second time was the night before New Year's Eve 2000; he said he'd be there with me for New Year's Eve, but like I said before....disappearage.

So, supposing that he invited me out to lunch a couple of weeks ago and supposing that the new girl I'm trying to be, I was and being that exuberant and spontaneous person, convinced him to take the afternoon off of work so we could go to his place and have a few rounds of marathon sex. Supposing that afterwards the mood of the room changed drastically from playfulsexy to serious and loving. Supposing he tells me over and over again that he loves me; that he's always loved me. And supposing I tell him the same thing. Muy romantico, no?

Ok, now, supposing a few days later he calls me up after work and desperately wants me to come over even though I've been working an event at the Library and smell like sweat and cafeteria food. Supposing he covers me with kisses and hugs the minute I walk in his door and he serves me pizza and wine and we sit for hours and talk and laugh. Of course, we had another few go-rounds of marathon sex, but supposing afterwards in the telling of the I-love-yous, he mentions that he's "not ready for a relationship" and that he's in the process of "finding himself" so he's not "a strong man" and that I "deserve someone better". So, I leave not really knowing what to feel.

Now, supposing I text him all day after the night I fell and nearly broke my foot wanting him to come see me. Supposing he never calls or texts me back all day and then tells me later that he had to mow his parents lawn and that that's why he wasn't available all day. Supposing I tell him that I'm angry and scared that he's disappearing on me again and then supposing he tells me again that he's not ready for a relationship and that he has a date the next night (Saturday).

Supposing Saturday I went to work as usual, even though it was hard as hell to get out of bed, and worked all day amidst coming-and-going crying spells. Supposing also that after I got off work that I couldn't even make it to my car without falling (literally) and crying hysterically. Supposing I couldn't drive home and had to sit in my car for half an hour before I could go anywhere. Also, suppose that when I got home I cried and screamed for another 2 or so hours and when that had run it's course, I tried to O.D. on prescription drugs, but was unsuccessful, but still want to keep doping myself up so that I won't have to think about how someone I've known for half my life has spent those years fucking me over (literally) even though I've been there for him during his darkest times over the course of the time we've known each other (like when he caught his former wife inflagrande cheating on him in their bed at at their house).

So now, what do I do?

Oh yeah, I nearly forgot to put this down: He told me that he wants to remain "friends" and that for my sake, we "shouldn't sleep together again", but he wants to take me to a movie this week.

Honestly, next to the Sally and Tanya thing, this is the worst betrayal I've ever experienced. I can't even function.

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You Never Know The Importance Of Major Appliances

This is the danger of not owning one's own washer/dryer: You could possibly be carrying big bags of clean laundry to your car and fall off the, amazingly high and amazingly invisible, curb; you could twist your ankle so hard that you think you've broken your foot, bang your head on your car and have your back feel like a sumo wrestler walked on it while wearing 7 inch stripper heels (that's a visual, yes?).

I went to the doc the day after it happened, had my foot x-rayed (by the way, I said that three times yesterday in the telling of the story as "x-rated" and that was before the pain meds) and had my back looked at and the knot on my head examined. The verdict is that I've strained my foot (right on the inside of the ankle and down toward the arch) really badly. My back is pretty fucked up. That's nothing new. There's nothing wrong with it that wasn't wrong with it before. So, it's not worse. It will just hurt worse for a good while. At least the knot on my head isn't where you can see it.