Despite my best (drunken) efforts, I have managed to not scare off Ryan.
Remind me next time that open bar + company Christmas party + texting = BAD IDEA!!!
After last Saturday, Ryan and I made no immediate plans to hang out. We texted sporadically and when I mentioned hanging out this weekend, he said he'd just have to check his work schedule. Friday night comes and no word from him. Every hour felt like an eternity and it didn't take long for me to start sweating bullets. Oh God, is he disinterested already?! As much as I yell at myself inside my brain to calm down, I can't. I feel dread. It's my company's holiday party and I'm three martinis deep. I have to text Ryan. I have to make sure he hasn't forgotten me. BEHOLD...my drunk texting at its most pathetic--
Me: Too early to be this smashed. How are you?
Ryan: Drinking a stein of beer.
Me: Ahhh...I've had about the same. Would it be too skanky to come over later or are you miles away?
Ryan: Miles away! Damn!
Me: Maybe later tonight? Night's still young...hahah.
(No answer. The ship is sinking. Water everywhere. I've hit a relationship iceberg)
Me: Ahhh. I blew it. If you aren't thoroughly annoyed with me yet, would enjoy seeing you tomorrow night.
Ryan: I'm working tomorrow night! :(
Me: Awww...working very late? No chance?
Ryan: I work till 3 am
Ryan: I'm missing my UFC :(
Me: Not the UFC!! You love that shit. Oh well...
Ryan: I'm crying on the inside.
Me: Nooo. No crying on the inside. Cheer up. Can I get a promise that I will see you soon?
Ryan: Soon. Just wait. It's a hectic week.
Me: Of course....I know. Nite. Be safe.
I don't know what his tone is on that last text, but in my hazy drunken stupor, I feel I've just been scolded by my older brother. I've been sent to my room for being bad. By now, I've already made it home. My ego is bruised. My heart aches. I feel like an idiot. I'll worry about damage control tomorrow. Maybe Ryan will make it easier on me and just tell me this isn't working out anymore. Ughhh. My warm bed makes an excellent coffin. I fall asleep super early, almost 11 pm.
12:47 a.m. - phone call. Ryan. Oh no. That's it. Here it comes. I squeeze my eyes shut and brace for impact. "Hello?" I say in a groggy voice.
Ryan immediately rattles off that he's still a little drunk and just about to smoke a joint. He's home in bed and was out visiting friends. He quickly apologizes for being cold and distant the entire week. He said so many things and so fast, my half-asleep brain couldn't even keep up. He says he would never lead me on, that he prefers having his head cut off than to be disemboweled? He keeps mentioning this metaphor, of ripping the band aid off as opposed to enduring the pain. Just walk into the guillotine, no torture. He would never leave me in the dark. "I would tell you, I would tell you" he insists. Sounds like he's been hurt by girls before. He promises he would never willingly do it to me. I squint in the dark. I think this is good news? Not sure. Then he goes on about getting to know each other and I do my best to agree. I have to stop him to even get a word in edgewise since he's just talking up a storm...
"Ryan. Ryan. Listen to me. I couldn't agree with you more. You're worth getting to know and I think I'm also worth getting to know" I whisper urgently.
He then mentions that as we get to know each other maybe we'll find out we're better off as friends. I stop him right there and ask why he's so eager to push himself into the friends zone when we've just barely started going out. He corrects himself and says he hates the friends zone. I struggle not to laugh. Is he listening to himself? He must be stoned already. I think at this point he accidentally hangs up on me and calls me right back. We talk a little bit more, just personal stuff and our plans for the rest of the weekend. He's working a double shift tomorrow. Ouch.
"But believe me. I will call you. I will call you. I promise. I will call you and we will hang out again. I won't leave you hanging. I hate when people do that to me. I won't put someone in that kind of uncertainty" he vows.
I thank him and smile in the dark.
"And if you want....you could come over now. My roommate isn't home yet." He sounds hopeful.
Enticing, but I decline. I tell him I will be patient and wait.
We make mention of having sex again. I tell him that we've only scratched the surface. I want him to push my blowjob boundaries. He laughs and says he will be my willing guinea pig.
Phone call ends on a good note. I sleep peacefully. I know it's going to feel like an entire lifetime until he calls or texts me with plans, but I resolve to be an adult and wait. AND NO MORE DRUNK TEXTING.
I check my Facebook only a few minutes ago and see a post from Alfonso, my old Boston flame from last summer who callously ignored my attempts to stay in contact. My stomach churns.
"by this time next sunday, i will be walking through the door to my house in East LA... it's been way too long..."
Do I dare? Do I dare? Do I dare?
Never hurts to drop a line. :)
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