I’m just not cut out for normal
He thought from beyond cyber space I would be cold. My warmth surprised him.
He bowls. Every week. With his own personal bowling ball. Which he had detailed with its name.
He named his bowling ball.
And yet, this bowling thing, I can overlook.
I can overlook his procrastination, indecisiveness, the extensive travel for work, his ADD speech patterns (although the conversation can be hard to follow, the randomness of the topics always makes me laugh).
Because on the other side, when he lays next to me and tells me all those sweet nothings about me that I wish were really true, everything feels so right.
He wants me to stop dating the Other (“I’ll call you after my date.” “No. No more dating other people.”).
He talks in the future tense about we, us, our. We should live in Boston…our apartment…our children (that was me actually, yeah, I totally was like “our children” WTF, was I just talking about OUR children?).
For the first time, we, us, our isn’t overwhelming.
Oh and the sex is phenomenal.
But he’s gone now and I suspect the worst. (My call went to voicemail; he’s clearly ducking my calls. He didn’t call back already because he’s sitting back enjoying the game he played. He’s used me for sex and now he’s laughing all the way home.) As soon as I admit to liking him for all the right reasons, I convince myself that it was all just a game.
And then the phone rings.
(Pussy Willow proclaimed: “He’s so normal.”)