the title of this post, if it weren't the third of three, would be 'peacock'.
i've adeptly nicknamed chalk 'cocky chalk'. for more reasons than one, and to his face. which he concurs with.
this was about the time when i started to feel like i needed some space. i guess because it was a long weekend, i'd only thought of the payoff of having him here for three days and three nights. not about the time i'd probably want to myself, and that i have a threshold for his incessant talking.
we got back to the city, and into bed. we both had bellyaches from food in the mountains, and at the festival, and after a while of reading and being online while he showered, we both had recovered enough to go at it again.
and then he wanted to go out on the town.
and the other thing i realized was that, in the mountains, we can go and see and do all that we want. i do know one person, attached to a friend who lives there in the summer, and i didn't think we ran much of a risk of running into her.
but back here, i look around constantly, afraid of being caught.
and him wanting to go out posed a problem.
i didn't want to go to the bar that kit and i frequent, due to all of the looks and comments weeks after the first time, when he was kissing my ears and neck at the bar.
so we walked a couple blocks before he started to make me feel like he didn't want to walk too far in his dress shoes (he either doesn't own or refuses to pack sneakers or shoes better for walking around in), so we went to a nearly empty bar that has mediocre food. i warned him about the food, but he liked his sandwich.
then he wanted to go somewhere else for a beer, so we walked around a bit and went to a bar that kit's been telling me about, that i hadn't been to yet. if only i'd thought of it for dinner, it would have been a grand slam. but i didn't think of it until we passed it, so we had a beer and talked.
the bar was loud. chalk was louder. and talking and talking and talking.
i notice that a lot of people around me are louder than they need to be, as a rule. but he takes the cake.
and talking about wanting to do something with his life to be happier, means that he should choose an area of study. but saying as he has no tolerance for professors that he feels more knowledgeable than...he has no tolerance for that.
and talking about when he worked for this guy, and how he was salaried, and would find ways to not cut corners, but to do a great job in as little time as possible...
i found myself wanting to get back to the apartment as quickly as possible. i felt like he was on a loudspeaker, and didn't understand why. it made me think of a peacock, showing its feathers to be attractive and desirable.
but it had the opposite effect on me.
and on the walk home, which was only maybe three blocks, he got a splitting headache out of nowhere. and went to bed.
i gave him a back rub and motrin, and it was persistent, so we settled for watching 'the sandlot'. which is one of my all time favorite movies.
and maybe i'm dumb, but i am always surprised by movies. i never see things coming, and i'm always surprised, even when the plot line is what everyone else deems predictable.
so with every comment he made about how silly a line was, or every thing he saw coming from far ahead, i was disappointed. he liked the movie, but it didn't feel like it.
and his head was still hurting, so we went to sleep.
and i had nightmares about him finding a ticket home, because he still hadn't taken the five minutes to book one by this morning, when he was supposed to be leaving in the afternoon.
so i got up and looked, just to make sure that i was worrying for no reason.
and there were tickets, and they weren't any more expensive than they were when i was looking into going home, so i was relieved.
he woke up a short time later, and it took him over an hour to book a ticket. and even when he did, he had several problems.
i think that maybe chalk is super smart and good at everything except booking flights.
i shouldn't be so ingrateful, because the weekend was fantastic, but by the time it was this morning, i was ready to know when he'd be leaving so i could have my apartment and space back.
and i know that, like nina said, he's kindof putting me on with all the sadness on the day he leaves, and the 'but i don't wanna leave...' comments.
but i think that he thought that if he had a hard time finding a ticket, i'd allow him to stay longer. and i just wasn't about to do that.
he finally thought he'd booked a ticket (honestly, he could be at the airport right now, without one, and i wouldn't know because i didn't follow up after dropping him off). and we did it one last time, and laid around for a while, before i made lunch and he packed up.
perhaps it was a perfect storm. if i hadn't been so stressed on work, and still running errands today and going to work on my day off to set up for tomorrow, maybe i'd have had an easier time dealing with the lack of personal space.
but when i dropped him off, i realized something else.
i can't have him back. and that doesn't mean i don't want sex-filled weekends with him, but it means that, if it's not at home in florida, it will have to be a destination weekend. like, meet me in boston. meet me in atlanta.
i can't deal with the stress of entertaining him in a city where my soon to be ex husband could run into us. or any of his friends.
i need a new fuck buddy.
and in talking to kit tonight, over dinner and a beer, i realized that a local one might be harder for me to deal with, because post-ever tea is always less than six degrees of separation between any given person and ever. and i can't bear the guilt of it, and don't want to worry any more. i feel like i'm out of prison, but on house arrest. and i know i shouldn't care or worry. because it is my life and these are my choices. but i'm not there yet. and that is why i think that, as long as i live in this city, i never will be.
to say that i look forward to another bbq with that boy (his name is conor) is an understatement. he lives in a different part of the city, far from the reaches of ever and his brood. he feels safe, even though i don't know him at all.
i just smoked three cigarettes writing this post and the last. and one beer.
it's only nine and i know i need to sleep, but feel like it will be hard to get rest and solid sleep before what is sure to be a ball-busting day at work tomorrow.
i need to unwind. and i'm somehow surprised that a chalk weekend, complete with jacuzzi suite in the mountains, didn't supply me with that. for all the time i spent in bed the last three days, i spent none of it sleeping soundly.
i need sweet dreams. i need less stress. i need job security.
i fear i'll get none of those things...