Monday, March 26, 2007
Don't let your eyes refuse to see
It was a quiet weekend. Spent almost entirely with Shannon and Karen, the two best friends a girl could ask for.
On Saturday, I dragged them up to the Bronx for my favorite yearly event- The Orchid Show. My friends patiently wait as I wander the paths, oohing and aahing and gently touching the delicate and beautiful flowers. I fill up my camera memory with picture after picture. I am happy and at peace.
After getting some dinner, (on the way to dinner, some lovely teenage boys declared us 'cute as a button') we head back home to get ready to go out for the evening. We'd started the week with grand plans. Drinks. Dancing. But it's starting to rain as we arrive home, and Karen is getting ill from dinner. We're tired and we have cupcakes that we want to eat, and after stumbling across a movie on TV that we all love, we decide to stay in.
When I check my phone just before going to bed, I have two missed calls from a number that I don't recognize. Karen calls the number back and I am not surprised that The Italian answers at the number. Karen hangs up and I shake my head at his audacity. He had called me on Friday and asked if I wanted to go to Paris for the weekend. No thanks. He called frequently over the weekend. And I wonder how many calls I'll have to not answer before he gets the hint.
Sunday was Long Run day, having been too lazy on Saturday. So, I went to the gym, turned up my iPod and settled myself in for a while. It was a tough run (weekend mornings usually are), and I struggled through the first mile. By mile 2 I hit the zone, but when I finally slowed myself down at 3.25, I thought I might throw up. Then I met Karen and Shannon for a dinner party, then it was down to Fairway for some grocery shopping.
While grocery shopping, Cam called. I had also been hearing from him quite a bit. He was buying an iPod and wanted me to buy it with him, and when I couldn't do that, he wanted me to come over and help him set it up. And I'd gotten one random call at 2:30 in the morning, because he'd apparently been drinking a lot.
I agreed to come over later that night.
And as we laid on his bed, while his iPod was updating the 3500 songs on his computer, with his head on my stomach, he talked to me about work and life and all sorts of stuff. And I wanted to slap him in frustration. I was tired of his spiel about not wanting a relationship. He clearly wants me in his life. When is going to admit this to himself?
We fell asleep like this- even though I'd had no intention of staying the night and had told him so. I woke up at 1ish, too tired to go home.
So I spent the night in his arms. I reveled in the feel of his hand, caressing my hip. And I woke, more rested than I've been in a long time.
I hate it that I sleep better with him.
Today's Title from: I Could Hold You in My Arms, by Ray LaMontagne
On Saturday, I dragged them up to the Bronx for my favorite yearly event- The Orchid Show. My friends patiently wait as I wander the paths, oohing and aahing and gently touching the delicate and beautiful flowers. I fill up my camera memory with picture after picture. I am happy and at peace.
After getting some dinner, (on the way to dinner, some lovely teenage boys declared us 'cute as a button') we head back home to get ready to go out for the evening. We'd started the week with grand plans. Drinks. Dancing. But it's starting to rain as we arrive home, and Karen is getting ill from dinner. We're tired and we have cupcakes that we want to eat, and after stumbling across a movie on TV that we all love, we decide to stay in.
When I check my phone just before going to bed, I have two missed calls from a number that I don't recognize. Karen calls the number back and I am not surprised that The Italian answers at the number. Karen hangs up and I shake my head at his audacity. He had called me on Friday and asked if I wanted to go to Paris for the weekend. No thanks. He called frequently over the weekend. And I wonder how many calls I'll have to not answer before he gets the hint.
Sunday was Long Run day, having been too lazy on Saturday. So, I went to the gym, turned up my iPod and settled myself in for a while. It was a tough run (weekend mornings usually are), and I struggled through the first mile. By mile 2 I hit the zone, but when I finally slowed myself down at 3.25, I thought I might throw up. Then I met Karen and Shannon for a dinner party, then it was down to Fairway for some grocery shopping.
While grocery shopping, Cam called. I had also been hearing from him quite a bit. He was buying an iPod and wanted me to buy it with him, and when I couldn't do that, he wanted me to come over and help him set it up. And I'd gotten one random call at 2:30 in the morning, because he'd apparently been drinking a lot.
I agreed to come over later that night.
And as we laid on his bed, while his iPod was updating the 3500 songs on his computer, with his head on my stomach, he talked to me about work and life and all sorts of stuff. And I wanted to slap him in frustration. I was tired of his spiel about not wanting a relationship. He clearly wants me in his life. When is going to admit this to himself?
We fell asleep like this- even though I'd had no intention of staying the night and had told him so. I woke up at 1ish, too tired to go home.
So I spent the night in his arms. I reveled in the feel of his hand, caressing my hip. And I woke, more rested than I've been in a long time.
I hate it that I sleep better with him.
Today's Title from: I Could Hold You in My Arms, by Ray LaMontagne
Labels: Cam
