i’d like to think that when Maxwell wrote Bad Habits he was referring to me & YOU…not YOU but the other YOU that will most likely NEVER read this post and even if you did, you probably wouldn’t blink twice at the thought that I utterly hate you and despise the very day that you were born (probably because you know that the unfortunate love I have for you engulfs my hatred)…
When I saw the area code I KNEW…i knew it was him. I knew why he was calling. I knew that he knew I knew it was him that was calling and yet, I still answered.
The text message went as such:
Him: You aren’t answering your phone, call me.
Me: Hey…who is this? (even though I knew)
Him: Just call me now (i love when he gets frustrated, it gives me an ounce of control)
Me: Who is this? I refuse to call someone who cannot simply identify themselves…
Him: It’s ***** babe, just call me.
Me: Ugh. Fine….
I called him against my better judgement and after a hour of him begging me to go to dinner with him, I agree once again against my better judgement…
after obsessing for 4 hours (he had a 4 hour plane ride to LA which made it much easier for me to beat myself up for being weak and stupid) about what I was going to wear i decided on the following: the True Religion jeans he bought me in ATL, the Christian Louboutin pumps I bought when we were NYC, the Bottega Venetta clutch he got when we were in Orlando, and the American Apparel deep v-neck shirt reminiscent of the ones he used to rip off of me during our passionate wrestling matches in the bedroom. (I decided if we were going down memory lane, he was going to merely look at me and immediately become nostalgic)
I figure the least I can do is get a fantastic dinner out of it so off to Philippe’s we go….as soon as he get’s in the car my heart begins to race. The moment he brushes the back of my neck to caress my hair reminds me of the first moment he unbuttoned my shirt…*rolling eyes at myself* I should’ve known better, I immediately should have told him to get out of my car but what did I do, I drive off with him in tow.
Him: “You just had to wear that outfit”
Me: (slyly smiling in my head) “I have no idea what you’re talking about, I just threw on what was comfortable.”
Him: “I’m glad you wore it, at least I know you still care”
The moment we stepped into the restaurant I see a good friend and once introductions are exchanged she goes “Wait, this is *****, the *****, your ex *****. Oh wow, girl you have GOT to call me”. Great, so not only did he see right through my outfit choice BUT now he knows I obsessively talked about him to my friends…
We order & then the conversation begins. I can barely look at him without feeling like I’m going to cry or scream. I can’t let him hold my hand without feeling like I’m going to fall onto the floor…the very girl who my friends know me to despise is the very girl I become with him:vulnerable, open, mushy and a victim of hopeless unconditional love. (I hate myself)
Him: “You didn’t think I loved you but I did, and I do”
*insert uncontrollable tears falling here*
Him: “I’m moving to LA. Me & **** are completely finished because I can’t be without you. I lost my best friend, my lover, my companion…when you left I lost the one person who–”
(I immediately interruput)
Me: “When I LEFT *****? When I left? You gave me no other choice…you practically held the door open….”
i’ll let you imagine how the rest of the convo went until…fast forward about 25 minutes…
Me: “Just tell me you never loved me, you never cared, it was just sex, that our entire relationship meant nothing to you so I can move on, and finally stop comparing EVERY man to you. I’m tired of sabotaging every blossoming relationship because they aren’t you…”
Him: “I won’t tell you that because its not true. I love you, I always cared & always will. It wasn’t just sex, it was an expression of love and I don’t want you to move on. I don’t want you with someone else. Its me and only me.”
Me: “You’re so selfish-I hate you”.
Him: “I am selfish, and I love you. So say it…”
Him: “Say it baby…”
The ride back to his hotel was perfect…him holding my hand, me trying to snatch it away. Him singing to me while I pretended to ignore it…him & me…me & him, just how it used to be…
I decided I could not & would not go back to his room because I already knew what would happen…when I drop him off he leans over and gives me “our kiss”. I died. He gives me one last kiss on the neck and gets out the car.
As soon as he closes the door I roll down the window…
Me: “Hey *****….I love you….”
as I drove onto the freeway entrance I came to the sudden realization–he’s back…