I was very nervous. There's always a few days of the month where I am extra sweaty. Extra pheromones. I get extra glances and advances. It happens to every woman. I'm sure of it. Anyways. Sometimes the universe aligns and I'm extra sweaty and stinky and I swear to fucking god I have too many unwanted advances at once. And then I get scheduled to talk with someone about something uncomfortable. Weeeeeee........ I was nervous. Extra nervous. I get in this space when I have to talk to someone and I go over the WORST feelings I have over and over and then I rewrite and rewrite and rewrite until I don't have something rehearsed or even finished... but it's just... better. I tell myself, try to look at it from all sides. Try to make sure you are being kind. Make sure that you don't act like an asshole. Even though you want to scream about how she's a fucking bitch and she is a jerk... but... don't be the jerk. There's a better way to say this. I don't need to be in a bad light because she dims everyone else's light. Don't make the same mistake you did before. Mistakes you have done before. Glow up.
I talked it out. Of course I did. I had coffee and I was sweaty and shaky and I talked it out. I panicked and looked for him and I found him and he was in a fucking circle of estrogen and I might have said, NAH out loud and I went back to talking it out. I whispered about it later. I was truth telling and I was clear and said I needed him and wanted him there. I don't know why I open my mouth ever.
I walked into the meeting alone and I was clear about everything. I hope I was. I don't like interrupting, but I felt like she was spiraling a bit and I had to be VERY CRYSTAL. I felt good about it. I walked out feeling like I got it out. Respectfully. Fully. Honestly. Listen. I never felt like walking out... until she trained me. I would rather do a million different things than be in the presence of someone who doesn't value their job and guide people along. If you don't like your job, don't put it on me, bitch!
I felt better walking out than I did walking in. I admitted I sweated through my shirt. I took off my long sleeve and the t-shirt underneath felt comically small, but I put on my lab coat and did my job. I had a really nice conversation with someone whom I previously had a bad interaction. A misunderstanding. I felt good about moving forward with getting to know her. She actually is very interesting and I think we may share a lot in common. Probably are attracted to the same bloke. He said she was shy, and I think he gets it. Funny how hot guys bang hot girls, but love shy girls. Anyways.
I wanted to be left handed more than ever at that moment. Its funny how willing to stretch I am- everything. Just smooth out the edges for someone I like. I scooted up very close and I started talking. Sometimes I get in a monologue and I forget that he's still there. I'm staring at the floor. The back of the hood. The tiny micro-tubes and tiny cutting. Anything. Just detaching from myself and spreading out my thoughts in neat little rows. Here they are.... aren't they.... sterile? He pulls me back and I'm inspired and I just feel like here it is! Here's where shit comes full fucking circle. The universe likes to just punch me in the gut and remind me that I can never have what I want. Whom. I laughed. It pulled me out of shit and I put my face on the shield and I didn't think of it until later... about how he hit his face on the shield when he was looking at me. Seems like months ago. Years ago. It doesn't matter. If he wanted me, he knows where I am. And since I'm here all alone. I think it's clear that he doesn't. It must have been a fluke. Just a cruel joke. Thanks, universe. You sure are FUCKING HILARIOUS. I laughed and he was embarrassed. I'm not sure why. If anything, I'm embarrassed that I threw in a VERY HONEST line that sounded like fishing for a compliment about how I was "probably cute in my twenties, I dunno" and that was more embarrassing than what he said. I guess it was the pause? That I couldn't hear him quite right. That I registered what he said after I said, wait... what? Too many times. I thanked him for the giggle and then I went over it again and again and again. I was full of so many things... Good things. Lust and hope and inspiration.... I was surprised when I saw his reflection a few more times appear in the glass. He talked to me almost every time. He engaged with me. I felt spoiled and smitten and a lot of things. I felt as though our conversation was overheard and made comment on.. but... it didn't stop me from noticeably filling in the gaps with wet cement. Just closing off the parts I had just exposed to him. I stopped other people from fully getting in. I felt a little... bad about it. Honestly. But, the combination of being very attracted to him and confiding in him and I dunno. Putting in a lot of time... lead me to feeling like I could open up more. And show my heart more than I had before. I guess that's what it was for me always. That I will answer questions. Base line. But, if I seek you out and open my heart... it means something to me. To me.
The rest of the time was just a few short funny things. Just some weird little interactions. I don't even really remember what was said. At some point he put a basket between us and he noticeably pushed his hip towards me. His basket was up against my hip and he motioned inside of it. Firstly. That is a large basket for what I potentially would want you to help me with. Secondly, did you want me to step inside? Why are you so fucking close? Thirdly, if there wasn't a basket here I might start dry humping your leg. So I looked him in the eye and then put the small boxes in the large basket and I thanked him. Because... what else could I do? He was conventionally, being a good person and a really fucking fantastic coworker. A goodman, if you ask me. But... is that for me? Is he like this with everyone? I can never be sure. But, I can't imagine him pressing his hip against a basket against anyone else's hip, to b e h o n e s t....
I went over it too many times in my head. What if I had said do you want me to get in the fucking basket? What if I pushed into the basket with my hip? What if I put my face very close to his....? And got fucking fired for breathing on someone I work with? Jesus fuck.
I forgot everything that had happened in my "real life." The one outside of work. The one where I stayed up late for a man and fucked him slowly until he couldn't stand it anymore and gave two hard strokes and came (while I was hoping he had like maybe ten good strokes in him.. but it's cool...). Where I asked about his job and sort of laughed remembering how much he reminds me of people I care about and his facial expressions and his breathing/sighs and their meanings. I read him like a book and I purr at him until he puts his clothes back on and leaves. I sort of wish I didn't have to walk him out. Or that he would stay, even. Because I guess I'm sentimental. I play phone games and laugh at memes from someone else. And then I go to sleep thinking about the amount of empty space in my bed.
Tears just come. They come out and I think I've been numb all weekend. Just sort of... "enjoying" my time "resting" when really I'm about one shade away from never leaving my bed again. That feeling of depression that comes from someplace deep down and dark. I don't know why I sent the fucking request. I did it last year. And he deleted the goddamn app. Who's to say I'm not like the other gal whom he said I didn't accept her request to follow me. It's why I didn't bother trying again. Probably because I look like a fucking narc. It's fine though. I was just already depressed about everything. I told myself when I walked out three days ago that I wouldn't request and I did it anyways because I'm a fucking pathetic idiot and I did and then I never heard back. He's too fucking cool to check it. Or he doesn't actually want to hurt my feelings. Because it would. I think about another guy I worked with that I just absolutely adored and it pained me all the fucking time. Why didn't he like me back? I just wanted him to so desperately that I ended up saying some dumb fucking things. Why did he tell me one night that he was opening up to me and he never does that? Probably because even if he wasn't actually attracted to me in every way, he felt the fucking connection we had. I'm glad he's happy. And I find it odd and also it makes perfect sense that he messaged me when his wife was pregnant. Just out of the blue. He just wanted comfort and I sent him a bunch of nonsense about birth and I'm a fucking idiot and I was too immature to understand it then. I get it now though. He wanted to find that peace. The connection. The part of me that understood him in a way he didn't know with other people. And I'm a dumbass.
So, let it be that. That, if anything at all... He had some nice conversation and a few semis talking to me about life. Maybe someday when he falls asleep next to his hot wife he will have her hand on his chest, under his hand, of course, and sigh audibly in bliss of the amazing sex he just had with his super hot wife where she just serviced him to completion so fucking basically good, he will look up at the shadows on the ceiling from the cars that pass by thinking, I really enjoyed my conversations with that one woman... what the fuck was her name? And I'll know true fucking peace, my dude.
It was TWO MONTHS AGO. Two months ago. That opportunity. I asked if it was still there... the opportunity... Oh, sure sure, yeah for sure... send your resume and I wonder if I squandered the time or not. Maybe, that was the time to jump and I didn't fucking take the leap. I open up a browser and I look up houses. Apartments. Houses for rent. Anything. Nothing I can afford that makes sense. Maybe I would just fucking commute? I dunno. I laugh about the absurdity. I'm upheaving my life in this moment... why? On a whim? A feeling? An intuitive peak of interest? A conversation with a hot guy that made me inspired to DREAM BIGGER??? It seems childish now. Now that he didn't fucking respond to my request. He doesn't know or he doesn't care or he cares too much to not hurt me. Either way. It's a no, dawg. I think about just commuting, what would that be like? I wouldn't be me if I didn't think about it. I think and think and think on it and I feel like... It is hard. It's harder than it has to be. For what? more money? I dunno. I guess if it was easy then I could see it being worth my while. I think about my friend's words and I feel like... maybe I should take her advice instead. Just apply someplace in the area. Why would I apply to someplace VERY specific because of a colleague getting a bonus and also because that hot guy lives nearby. It's not like we are friends and he would show me fucking around town or something. I'm just. *screams*
Maybe it would be good for me to be in another town. Another area. This little city is like a meca for assholes who are very slut shamey and very much not into commitment. It sort of sounds like I am not looking for a commitment either by texting my ex boyfriend for a quick bang every now and then. I don't know. I don't know what to say. Except, that I learned to compartmentalize that connection and just shut off my feelings because he MADE OUT WITH MY BEST FRIEND. So I don't feel like I will "accidentally" fall in love with an asshole like that again. *insert crying/laughing emoji*
I want to sit on the couch and stare at a screen. I want to get dressed up and hit on by someone random at a bar. The feeling is spectacularly similar.
*No new notifications*
Comments
Post a Comment