Typical.

It’s been about 3 months no contact.  Then that went all to shit the other day.

It’s strange, but the night, or morning he contacted me, I was told I was tossing and turning in my sleep.  My breathing was heavy and I would exhale sighs of forlonging occasionally.

I awoke to a feeling of, oh, i dunno…heaviness about me. As though my subconscious knew that my fragile bubble of safety was in danger of being burst by the threat of many pointy things. Specifically, his world of sharp and pointy things used to keep most his victims down on the ground.

There it was.  The little flashing light on my phone.  An indicator that I had a message via facebook.

Goddamn facebook.

It was from P.   He had sent the message at three in the morning.

He had had a dream about me.

Of course i knew to leave the message go unanswered.  I knew I should just delete it. So fucking what.  He had a dream about me. Good.  I have dreams about him every fucking night just about.

But curiosity got the best of me.  It always does.

I replied back inquiring.

“Well i forget most of it because i went back to sleep but i think there was some gagging involved but what woke me up was you were in some car accident”.

Gagging involved.  Heh.  Typical.  So reminiscent to what he would say to ne of his many asshole sluts that he would carry on with behind my back.   It occurs to me that I have now been thrown into this list….this group of rotating supply. (Not that I would ever engage him in such) Now that we are no longer, I am finally privy to the solicitous flirtations and subtle innuendos I so longed for when we were together.  The ones that should have been saved for his girlfriend and not his bevy of floozies.

I respond back saying that I hope his dream was not prophetic.  He responds with “all right then.”  I then ask him how the dog is.  

God I miss that dog.

“She’s good. I am too Thanks for asking.”

Typical.

He then asks how I am. I tell him I’ve been better and I’ve been worse. The same vague answer I give to anyone I don’t really care to share the intimate details of my life with.

He asks how the dating is going. Again, I respond with vagueness and switch topics. I throw it back to him. He tells me that he’s been on a date here and there, but nothing worth pursuing.

Hence why he is probably sniffing around my door.

I take a gander at his dating profile and it just screams of conceitedness. “I’m super rad and if you can’t hang with that best to move along….If you’re a girl with a duck face picture don’t message me…that it’s dumb with a capital D, how most girls on the site don’t have a sense of humor and that’s their problem” …..he enjoys his “own stories”….

Christ. At least he took down the rant about his ex girlfriend thinking his headline was about her. *eye roll*

We chit chat through out the day….It’s all about him. Other than how’s my dating life going….he asks me nothing. Not about my new job, nothing about my family, not a thing about what else I have been up too.

I ask him if had gone to a show I had recently gone to. I know he wasn’t there. I sat there the whole night skimming the rows of the theater looking for him. I ask anyways. He tells me that he had to work late and had no one interesting to go with.

He tries to drop in jabs here and there as I ask him about a movie he said he saw. He tells me it was “the movie he had asked me to go with him to see and I told him to lose my number and to fuck off.” This was a few weeks after our break up. It was the day I found out he had been out on a date the night before and the same day he had a date lined up for after we were suppose to see the movie together.

Apparently he did the first part, hence his contacting me through Facebook.

Throughout the conversation it becomes so crystal clear. It’s so obvious. It’s right in front of me. Only now, I have a name for it. I finally know what it was/is I am dealing with.

While I have been getting on with myself, and while my heart doesn’t sob as much over the thought of him anymore, it does at times whimper at the thought of his name.

I decide to just throw it out there, because at this point, It doesn’t matter any more. There is nothing to lose….nothing to gain.

“For what it’s worth, I really do miss you and wish things could have been different.”

“Me 2.”

2. Hmmm. 2. Not too, but 2. Everything before his last response, everything pertaining to him was spelled out. Pontificated.

All I can do is laugh at the predictability.

I turn my attention back to my work, to the text conversations I have going on with a few others.

I am in no danger. My bubble holds intact. I float safely above his pins and needles.

I turn my attention back to me.

~ by spanglebaby52 on March 18, 2014.