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Mr. Flex: It doesn’t matter. Every girl I try to talk to thinks I am stupid
“All truly intelligent people are racist…Even you’re racist. You don’t know it. It’s genetic.”
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A Whirlwind
I knew that I was getting in too deep, and way too fast. We talked about everything. I mean…everything! There were a few things discussed where my reaction (the sane part of me) was, “Wait a minute! We haven’t even MET and we’re trying to talk about that?! Hold the phone!” But my heart was already there. Stupid, deceptive heart that it is. Despite all my preemptive warnings and careful foundation laying of boundaries, my heart flitted up to the top, stuck it’s tongue out at me and jumped over. And it was all my fault. I had convinced myself that the walls were too high and the shelter too narrow that I didn’t need a roof. After all, I love the sky, and it makes me feel like anything is possible. Like a big, ugly bird, it would be too difficult to take off and actually get over those walls…but I was tricked.
So, here’s how it went. We chatted for two weeks in seeming bliss with each other. Sharing everything that we could. He said he wasn’t letting himself get too attached, but I couldn’t help but feel like the amount of information and the kind of info we were talking about signified a deep desire for a strong relationship. Not to mention the fact that we would talk and suddenly he would spit out something that had been on my “List” for years. You know, The List. The list of things that I am looking for in a husband, praying for and hoping to find. Some things have been added/removed over the years, but the essentials have remained the same, and he exhibited all of these. I didn’t set him up for it either. I didn’t feed him any lines or hints. And he said the same about me. We just innately had what the other had been looking for. Certainly there were red flags. This was all happening so quickly and so easily. Had I really been wasting all this time over the last several years just to have what I was waiting for in a month’s time?
The let-down of such a rush of emotion and hopes is really tough. This reflects my personality type well in that, after the fact, I am grateful for such a devastation because it re-grounded me and made me realize just how much of my heart I had given away. And so, I quickly took it back and made sure he was aware of the danger and his, now, great task of winning it back.
It basically came from him not calling me or texting me. Minor things, I will admit, but at the same time, how hard is it to just shoot a reply, even just to say, “Hey, I can’t talk right now.” “Busy this weekend, call you when the week starts up again.” Something like that. And it’s not like I was texting him a bunch of times throughout the day. I am good about limiting myself and so sent him a text in the mornings to wish him a good day and left it at that.
One weekend though, I had a wedding to perform for and he was moving. We shared how little we were looking forward to both events and the various emotions/situations we’d find ourselves in and I was looking forward to being able to comfort each other in the evening with a phone call. But I never heard from him. No reply to my text, no phone calls. Alright, so I have found ways to be stalkerish. Like, on the Christian dating site, it will tell you the last time a certain person has been logged into the site. And he, without fail, was able to check his account. Yes, I know…but the information is right there. And yes, I know this means that I, too, was checking my account during this time, but at least I was coupling it with communication with him.
I think that if he hadn’t been so ardent in his excitement for me and the prospect of our relationship, I wouldn’t have been so concerned about him not getting in touch with me. But he was. He had joked that if we met soon, he might try to propose to me. I laughed, but I couldn’t help feel that I might not be against such an attempt. He said that I was perfect (I should know to question words like that). He was “waiting to wake up.”
And either he did or I did. Or maybe both. It turns out that my suspicions were correct that something very big was wrong. After I told him he was on my “I’m really bummed…” list, he said he’d make it up to me and call me that night. But he didn’t. Turned out he forgot his phone at home. I’m a person who would rather give the benefit of the doubt, so I let him off for that night, but I was still upset. Not fuming anymore, but really disappointed. He called the next night, but was in a bad mood. The convo was of a lower quality than we had enjoyed, but I still felt better from it, relieved that he at least did have a “terrible weekend.” But he quickly ended the call and said he’d be in a better mood the next night to talk.
However, enough time had passed between my being really upset with him and now just jaded that it didn’t really bother me that much. He knows where to find me and I’m leaving it at that.
Intermission
I am sorry that I have been so MIA lately. Work has been taking a lot of my time, as are my after work activities. Not to mention that I am speeding my way through the Harry Potter series in preparation for the last movies coming out, as well as in the midst of a couple crafting projects. All this to say…I’m a slacker and have forgotten to update this blog.
This is not to say that nothing has been happening, in particular, with Mr. Rough. Plenty has been going on and many conversations and upsets and forgiveness and frustration and apathy…I hope I can remember it all when I am able to sit and get us all caught up on things.
So, with less than half of The Deathly Hallows to finish up, I will leave you in anticipation of a coming update which will, hopefully, live up to the standards of The Nameless Chronicles. Have a great day!
Intro: Mr. Rough
His story was, sobering, though. He honestly thought that after he shared the details with me that I would be out the door. But as I said, everyone has had their own share of turmoil and everyone has made mistakes. Some might be a bit more loud than others and the consequences greater, but we all can be changed (or what point is there in being a Christian?)
Lingerie, Anyone?
My aunt is a somewhere eccentric person and I could imagine her seeing some crafty projects of mine and thinking she’d help by sending some fabric out to me. But this was not the case, alas.
Stay Single?
When I was a kid, I went through the typical little girl phase of wanting to be a ballerina, a veterinarian, to have a pony, and the not-so-typical phases of wanting an elephant, to be a cartographer (yes, a person who makes maps. I thought that meant I’d get to travel a lot) and a martyr (they get really pretty crowns in heaven…and what little girl doesn’t want a pretty crown?)
(Click on title to read more)
End Modern-Day Slavery in the United States | Pepsi Refresh Everything
My dear friends at Polaris Project are trying to get a grant through Pepsi Refresh. 50K! You need to go vote for them now.
End Modern-Day Slavery in the United States | Pepsi Refresh Everything.
The Last Bar Study
The last of this “Bar Bible Study” series was last week. Mr. Engineer told me that the speaker was going to be a friar, and as such, my entire morning and afternoon was filled with giggles and guffaws resulting from an image of Friar Tuck running around my mind. Seriously, how could anyone expect me to get much work done with the prospect of seeing a fat man with a rounded baldspot, Beatles bowl haircut, brown habit and wool corded belt. I felt it only right, with my vow to be upfront and honest with Mr. Engineer, to share with him all the joy I had throughout the day relishing in the thought of the coming evening and he seemed to take it well, enjoying the humor as well, though not as much as me. Then he completely deflated my balloon by saying that he thought it was just a priest. I know, bummer.
We got to the bar and were ushered outside this week to the patio. It was really nice to be outside and not have to worry about being cold all night. We ordered our supper and gabbed with the others at our table. We talked about college and majors and jobs/careers. Everyone assumed that I was Catholic as well and when the discussion came around to me, I was asked what my major was. I answered, “Christian Ministries.” Really? What school did you go to? “Super-tiny Baptist College. [paraphrase]” The next two questions were priceless. “So…are…you Baptist?” um, yes…? “Are….you comfortable here?” um, yes…?
Jokes ensued about how the seat I had chosen was perfect for either a quick get-away or to keep an eye on everyone in the room for protection. The priest then walked up amidst our laughter and I have to say that I was sorely disappointed. He was a priest, yes, but in plain clothes. He shared his story and talked about “hearing God in everyday situations.” His talk was kind of odd, but good for the most part. I’d say that I agreed with about 70% of what he had to say.
Everything finished, and we took off back to my place. When we pulled into my drive-way, we stood and chatted by his Jeep for a few minutes. I asked him what he thought about the meeting. He said it was good and we talked about times that we had heard God speaking in our lives. He asked what I thought of it and I thought this was a good opportunity to tell him how dead-set I am on not becoming Catholic. He didn’t really respond but I figured it’d be food for thought until we saw each other again on Sunday.
I spoke with my pastor’s wife about the religious differences and we agreed that my biggest problem was that I need someone to serve with me in the same church…and that church can’t be a Catholic one. I think I’d be able to serve with Mr. Engineer in the same church…but that it would probably have to be Catholic. Oh well. I was still on a bum of not hearing a friar speak…
(as this happened last Thursday, there have been a few events since left out of this blog. I will work to bring you all up-to-date. Keep your eyes peeled!)
The Nameless Chronicles 