Page 47 of Love and Other Mental Health Concerns
“I love you all too, but I would really like Gary and Stan to get back to work so that Marcy and I can have the very important conversation about the state of her sex life.” The men both groan and roll their eyes as they get up to head back toward the counter.
“Behave, ladies,” Stan says with a wink as they walk away.
“Really, Annie?”
“Yes really, are you kidding? You hadn’t so much as kissed a man in six years and now I can’t even get a hold of you while you are locked up in a sex den.”
“It’s not a sex den! We do other things!”
“Marcy, are you telling me that I could safely sit on any surface in your apartment right now without concern for bodily fluids?” My silence is deafening. “I thought so. Spill.”
I give Annie an hour of sex life updates before I start to get anxious to get back to Nick. I’m missing him after just being away from him for a couple hours, feeling a tug to get back to hissunshine. I know he is upstairs waiting for me, and the proximity doesn’t help my focus.
“I’m happy for you and your clitoris, and not at all jealous.” Annie says as she pulls me in for a tight hug.
“I have a feeling your clitoris is doing just fine, Annie.”
“Eh, I’m still on a break from boys. I need a reset, I’m bored.”
“I’ll let you know if I find any worthy contenders.”
“You’re the best.”
I leave Annie behind and head toward my apartment. As I take the stairs, I resign myself to the fact that my family is right. Nick and I need to have a real conversation about the future. The near future, unfortunately.
I expect to find Nick in the apartment, lounging in some devastatingly sexy way on the couch, but am disappointed to find he isn’t here. Isn’t home. That thought alone sends a shiver down my spine. I don’t like the wake-up call that was appropriately delivered to me today. I don’t have any texts from Nick and decide that maybe this is good. I could use some time to clean and shower. He will be home later, I am sure; I will just see him then. I push the anxious thoughts away that are flooding my system.
A few hours go by, and still nothing. No texts, no calls, and I am struggling to reach out. I don’t want to be needy. My insecurities remind me that no matter what the past few weeks have felt like, or what he has said about wanting to be with me, Nick is still used to short term trysts. Maybe he changed his mind and doesn’t want this. Maybe the break from me today was enough to remind him of that.
He would have told you he needed a break. He would be honest about that.
Apartment clean, a dinner made from the ingredients now consistently in the fridge, and a shower that involved shavingand exfoliating have all taken place. My curls are to die for, body wrapped in nothing but a robe, ready for my Adonis to arrive home. My nausea from my anxiety not allowing me to eat, but I am reassuring myself otherwise.
By seven O’clock though, I cave and send him a text.
Me: Hey, just checking-in. I made us some dinner if you are interested. No pressure. I can make plans if you are busy.
Minutes later, three dots populate the text window that I have been staring at since I hit send.
Nick: Hey, go ahead and eat without me. Sorry, should have let you know I wouldn’t be back at your place. The day kind of got away from me. Let’s plan to connect tomorrow. You are beautiful! ?
What the fuck kind of response is this? “Your place,” not home, “connect,” like I am just a coworker. The tone is as if he went about his day in a world in which I do not exist. He couldn’t be bothered to keep me informed. We have only spent every day of the past month together; how dare I assume that this would continue tonight?
Beautiful? Patronizing.
Stupid smiley emoji.
Now I’m livid, mostly with myself for being foolish.
I trusted my heart over my brain and should have known it would lead to another heartbreak. He doesn’t do serious relationships, and I am too broken for the games of something casual. Every fear and insecurity that held me back from finding partnership in the past six years comes roaring back with one text message. Panic sets in. I am not ready for this; I’ll end upback on the floor of my shower just willing the world away. That unlovable feeling racking my every thought.
I wanted to say I loved him, and he forgot I existed.
I have a perfectly reasonable response.
Me: No problem. I actually have plans tomorrow. See you at work on Monday.
I turn my phone off and dissolve into my couch. Avoidance mode activated.
