Not every story is going to depict me in a glowing light. Sometimes the story will make me look like an alcoholic home-wrecker. You can either choose to accept that and read on, or you can quit me. Your choice. And here we go…
One night I went on a friendly (albeit very flirty) outing with a guy I had met through work. It all stemmed from a conversation had during a work call:
Me: Where are you? It’s really loud!
Adam: Bowling alley.
Me: For work?
Adam: No. To bowl. I’m in a bowling league with my friends
Me: Oh. Nerd.
Me: I’m kidding. I’d kick your ass at bowling.
Adam: We’ll see about that. You’re on. One day you’re going to have to prove that.
So a few weeks later, as work was winding down he asked me what I was up to and suggested we go bowling. We began our night shooting pool and pounding Miller Lites. Then we got to the bowling. The first two games were very close. For the third game we made a bet. I now know how stupid it was to think the bet would be innocent…
Any time a bet is “well, if I win, I choose what I want…and if you win – which you won’t – you can choose what you want” an alarm should sound in your head. This can only lead to bad things.
Due to my inability and disinterest in making a decision, I lost on purpose [sure…] So while throwing back my 6th or 7th Miller Lite I posed the question of what he wanted for winning the bet. He hopped down off the high top chair he was sitting on, wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed me. It took me by surprise, because I’m a moron, but it was also insanely hot.
Here’s where you all decide you hate me and my immoral lifestyle: I had heard through others gossiping that he was in a relationship. I’d heard they’d broken up. I’d heard they were living together. I’d heard they were engaged. So I claim plausible deniability in this, but I knew he wasn’t available, and for that, I deserve to be shunned.
In any case, we began our whirlwind romance in a blur. There were hotel rooms. There were weekend/day trips. There were drunken nights out that ended anti-romantically in the backseat of his car. There were feelings. SO many feelings.
He was the first person I said “L-word” to. And in hindsight, I didn’t love him. I didn’t even “L-word” him, unless the L-word in this case is lust. I lusted the shit out of him.
Three or four months into this un-labeled, rushed, inappropriate whatever-it-was he stopped talking to me. He didn’t reply to my texts or calls. He stopped coming into the workplace where we had met. He borderline disappeared.
One drunken night while I was visiting a friend in another city, I sat on the curb outside a bar and left him a voice mail that I can only assume went like this:
Adam. You know what? Fuck you. I really hope you’re not dead or injured or whatever but like, what the hell dude?? I know I didn’t do anything because I’m awesome and smart and great [and modest.] So if you ever decide to pull your head out of your ass and be a grown up, feel free to give me a call. Over and out.
My magical drunk-dial powers did well because he called me back two days later while I was recovering in my bed from a bender of a weekend. I almost didn’t answer.
Adam: Best. Voicemail. Ever.
Me: Ha. I’m glad you enjoyed it. What can I do for you?
Adam: See me?
Me: Are you still engaged/dating/living with someone? [This was my way of addressing the rumors that I was being a super home-wrecker which I had never felt the need to acknowledge prior to this point in time.]
Me: and why not?
Adam: It just wasn’t right the way it was. Things change.
And so began my second ride on our fiercely wild roller coaster for a few months and then we mutually stopped talking/calling/hanging out.
About 2 months after our last day together I was on the phone with a mutual friend when he said the phrase “…it was just me, Chris, Adam, his wife and my girlfriend…” My heart sank into my toes. Adam’s what?
Let that sink in a minute.
Wife. Apparently he had gotten married about 6 months prior [exactly when we had stopped talking, prior to my epic drunk voicemail.]
I flew through a multitude of emotions: disbelief, shock, anger, frustration, hurt, feeling uber-slutty, etc. I finally settled with an acceptance of the situation. He is a shitty person and should absolutely not be married, but he didn’t lie to me. Provided he knew EXACTLY what I was asking when I asked about his engagement/dating status, but he chose his words perfectly and I’m slightly in awe of that, honestly.
On a positive note, I learned to be more direct with my questions. I also got a sweet story out of it and this blog post… silver lining.