Back to where I was (The Fling: Part 2)

“Hey, it’s The Fling. This is my new number. How have you been?”

I stared down at my phone and blinked hard a few times, sure that I could not possibly be seeing this text message on the screen of my phone. My heart instantly began beating harder, faster. I could feel my pulse throbbing out of every pore of my body.

I needed to stand up, walk around, wrap my head around the fact that after a month of no contact…the silence was broken. Just like that. So easily. Like nothing had ever happened. Like I hadn’t sat up with my girl friends for hours during the night analyzing the how’s and why’s of his disappearance.

I walked past my friend’s cubicle, not even stopping when she called out a “hello.”

I strode past the bathroom, down the steps and out the front door of the building I work in.

A few minutes of pacing and several very deep breaths later, I marched back up to my desk and looked down at my phone. It blinked red with several other messages and e-mails, but this was the one that needed all, and none, of my attention.

I couldn’t not respond. It’s not in my nature. The only comparison that I can make between myself and Tom Petty’s “Free Falling” is that, for all intents and purposes, I’m a good girl.

Oh, and I love my momma.

I stewed over my response for a good 45 minutes before I typed it out. “Hey…thanks. I’ve been good.”

Then I took out the ellipsis.

Then I put it back.

Then I took it out and replaced it with a comma.

Then I took out the comma, added a period and capitalized the “T” in “Thanks.”


It was straight, to the point, and didn’t require a response from him. If he wanted to continue the conversation, he would. Not that he’d want to. He probably actually texted me by mistake because I know he has other friends named Amanda. He probably meant to text the person below me in his phone. There’s no way he’d have the balls to —

Red light flashes as phone vibrates.


“I’ve been good. A lot less stressed. And I’m working a lot now. How are you?”

I hadn’t asked him how he was. He always did that. Answered a question I didn’t pose and asked me a question that he’d already presented.

I realized that I’d missed it.

I’d missed him.

I tried to end it, I swear to you I did. But there’s just something about him that makes me throw all caution to the wind. Before I even knew what I was doing, I was back to square one.

Here was the playful banter I’d missed so much. Here was the silliness and humor.

It was like it had always been…but, different. There was a cloud hanging over the conversation. I had to let him know that I wasn’t exactly happy with the way he’d disappeared.

“So, does this mean you’re trying to be my friend again?”

“When weren’t we friends?”

My brain hurt. Literally, pained me. Was he being serious? Was he that dense?

“Ummm…you know…when you poofed? Friends don’t poof.”

He explained that he thought I’d wanted him to poof.

He misunderstood.

He missed me.

Do I buy it?

Nah…not for a second.

But those moments between texts, when I hit send and waited semi-patiently for my phone to light up with a clever, yet poorly spelled response? Those are the moments that brought me right back to where I was before.

And I just can’t be that girl anymore.


3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. amber
    Sep 23, 2010 @ 19:42:05

    Hmm. I’m glad you don’t buy it – it seems awfully suspicious to me, him popping up that way and then casually shrugging off his disappearance as something he thought YOU wanted. PSHAW. I think we’ve all heard that BS excuse.

    I love your blog, btw. That entire thought process – to respond, to not respond, the grammar fretting over – is all painfully familiar. 🙂


    • manderz1784
      Sep 24, 2010 @ 05:49:08

      Thank you! I enjoy your blog as well =)

      I didn’t buy it, but I still had some stupid, lingering hope that he really did want to try things again. Something happened yesterday that completely relinquished any sort of desire I had to continue talking to him and seeing him. If I hear from him again, I’ll tell him we shouldn’t talk anymore.
      If I don’t hear from him anymore (which is a very likely possibility), then it’s done and I’m completely moved on.
      Gosh, I can’t stand this stuff!!
      But, at the same time, if it didn’t happen, there would be no story to tell =)


  2. Trackback: This year was about… « Wild oats.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: