***A word to the wise, for my more hopelessly romantic readers: If you didn't like the last post, because it was a little too much reality, with a little too little whimsy, then you aren't going to like this entry any better. Let's just say, it's a bit dark***
Mr. Unicorn and I quickly return to newly-coupled dating bliss after a brief wrong turn down I-was-a-cranky-bitch-but-he-forgave-me Lane. We continued to spend time together frequently and sooner than I initially planned or intended things progressed to be "more serious." (Please be adults and interpret this last statement adequately so that I don't have to be more specific. Much obliged.)
And at this point, the two of us suffered yet another hitch in our giddy-up. After things got "more serious" or "more special" as it were, I didn't hear from him. For. two. days. I could have killed him. I was pissed off and also terrified beyond anxiety's belief that I'd been used and abused and made to believe in mythical creatures that promised happily ever after when in reality he was just another rabid dip shit dog of the male human variety.
At which point, I suffered yet another poor night of sleep wondering if this fairy tale romance had come to an end with me as the victim of a very very cruel joke delivered by the universe at large. When I realized I had about an hour or two before I had to start getting ready for work, and I hadn't slept a wink, I willed myself to get up, go downstairs, wrap a blanket around my shoulders, sit at the computer, and then I wrote the following, feeling numb and desperate:
"It's 4:21 a.m. and I can't sleep. This endless cold I've been enduring and too much food at a fancy dinner with my parents last night doesn't help. And then of course, there's you...
I'm so furious at you right now I can literally feel internal organs and veins and muscles seething with rage. I can also sense the worry in my face - behind my forehead and my cheekbones.
I didn't hear from you today. Not a text or an email or a phone call. Which normally would be fine. I've told you before I'm a "working girl" and I've got "things to do." Perhaps that was my mistake, but no, this time, the mistake is finally yours.
You men. You. men. Sometimes you men make me crazy. Make us girls crazy. And I just want to point my finger out into the universe at the lot of you clueless awful men. you, you, you, you...suck. So there.
Sex changes everything. Everything. It always does. You get it and stop being so nice all the time. Which disgusts me. Which pisses me off. Which hurts me. If you sleep with me then you better acknowledge my existence the next day. Or duly expect my wrath in timely fashion.
You're probably just really really busy. Just like me. And trying to play it somewhat cool. Just like me. And I know I'll see you in a couple of days and I know you know that too. But still...
I don't want to see you now. For this special night I planned. And I don't want to spend the night. And I don't want to continue to fall for you because the inevitable inevitably occurs - you let me down. And I am sad. And cannot sleep.
I suppose its some consolation that the moon is beaming over my head streamed with thick, swiftly moving clouds across the night sky. The man in the moon's head tilts just slightly to the right. His mouth is gaped wide at me, questioning. I could waggle my hand at him perhaps and feel better. You man. You men. I could blame you all for my insomniatic melancholy. But I think I'll just blame...him."
At which point, I closed my laptop, stood up slowly and walked back over to the kitchen. I stood in the shadows and made a pot of coffee. I poured myself a cup and wandered back to the den. Sipping my liquid cocaine slowly, I gazed out the window again, still wondering what the man in the moon might be trying to tell me. Then I got dressed and went to work and behaved the way the consummate professionalism might. At some point during the day, I wrote, and then posted, what I recall to be "A Date with A Unicorn: Part 10" which made me slightly miserable. While I wasn't thrilled describing how gosh darn dandy and wonderful he and everything else was not knowing whether it was all over or not, at the same time I still felt grateful for all the beauty and merriment and magic that I'd been given over the last several weeks. No matter what happened, I couldn't regret any of it or wish it undone.
I reached out to a friend to discuss the matter further. "Well what did you expect?" she asked me calmly. "Flowers, or something?" "No, of course not," I replied insistently. "But I did expect one god damn text or one god damn email. Just some acknowledgment of my existence." "I can understand that," she comforted me.
When I finally heard from him...it was still not very satisfying. Instead of asking me how I was doing or saying anything nice or anything at all to acknowledge my existence or the fact that things had gotten "more special" or "more serious" and that that was a good thing, instead I got what was called "Unessential updates on my life", (no joke), which described what he had been up to and had in the days ahead of him, oh and also to ask me if we could push back our dinner date for Saturday an hour later because he had friends coming over in the afternoon. (Need I remind you that this was the special date that I had been scrupulously planning to the last detail and fretting over for weeks, which included dinner and a concert, and meeting some of my friends, as a thank you to him for all the amazing dates he had planned and paid for and also as a gift to celebrate his birthday.)
Let's just say, I didn't feel like responding to him. So I didn't.
When he hadn't heard back from me, he sent me another email. And another. And then finally, one that said: "What's going on? Why haven't I heard back from you?" And then when I still didn't answer, one that said: "Come over after work."
Had he really upset me. Or do I always do this? Block the very real and deep feelings I have for someone worthy, reverting back to my numb, stone-cold heart center, in order to defend myself against getting hurt? Is this why I have such impossible expectations of everyone, including myself? So that no one can ever live up to them and I therefore remain safely alone? I thought about just the other night when we sat in the car and I was kissing him. And he was saying how he didn't want the night to be over and I had said the same thing and there had been electricity between us- you know the way it feels when you're holding someone hands and it feels like the tenderness they feel for you is traveling along a line from their hand directly to your heart? I thought of this and then made my over to his house after work.
"What's going on?" he asked me when I got there. "You upset me," I answered plainly. "How?" he questioned calmly and seriously. "Well...(I struggled with my words)...the other night...it was...a big deal..." "Yes...and?" (Then I found the courage to explain) "And...you didn't even acknowledge my existence! for two days! Not a call or a text or an email. That made me feel awful. Can't you see that?" He pulled me against his chest and threw his arms around me. "I am so so sorry," he said. "I would never mean to hurt you like that. I'm crazy about you. I just thought you knew that. And we have our big date Saturday. I just...didn't think." "Well you need to think about it from now on. Whenever we're "together" like that, you need to acknowledge my existence the next day- in some way." "I can do that," he promised. "And while I'm happy to do that, and I will do that from now on, you must know that whether I did or not, I'm thinking of you every day." "Really?" I looked up at him. "Really."
And just like that, I was all in again. The whole deal.