Ok, Don't Be Mad

But. . .

I called Smith yesterday.

I know what I said, but I didn't follow through very well. I'm better, sometimes, at giving advice than heeding it.

It wasn't a bad phone call. I wasn't sobbing or yelling. I thought about it first. It just seemed like the right thing to do. For me. In that moment.

See, my friend C (yes, she who introduced us and who has another guy lined up, apparently) came over on Friday (which forced me to clean my place so it didn't look so much like Pink when he loses it) and we went downtown where she took me to (one of) her favourite ice cream place(s). We came home, ordered pizza, watched a silly movie and talked about Smith. (Not necessarily in that order)

When I told her I had deleted Smith's phone numbers, emails, etc but I really wanted to call him, C asked why I'd done that and pointed out that his number would appear on my phone bill when I told her I didn't know how to call him even if I wanted to.

And my brain said "huh".

It's not that she was encouraging me to call him or anything. I just felt relieved knowing I could.

And then I found the piece of paper I'd originally written Smith's number on, so long ago.

I recycled it.

And realized that if I went onto the web based account of my POP mail I'd still have a copy of the email Smith sent me last week.

Again, relief.

And then I fished his number out of the recycling.

And put it away.





Until yesterday, when I called C and told her I was going to call Smith.

"Well, ok. Um, why?" she asked.

"Because." I replied.

"Ok."

And that was that. No judging, no encouraging, just "ok." Just what you want to hear. Neutrally supportive.

So I called.

Shaking fingers and all.

I guess I'm glad I did. I asked him if he was sure, told him I knew it was a silly question and we talked for a while. Smith seemed surprised I'd deleted everything and asked me why I felt the need to make everything so black and white.

I didn't really have a clear answer, but said I was trying to move on or something.

We talked for a while before I had to go, and I guess I might feel better. In a way.

We're really still not together, but, in a way, that's not a huge change from what was and has been for a long time. It's just now that I know at least he'll call sometime, or email sometime and that's good. It's a relief. Maybe I'm not meant to go cold turkey with Smith. Maybe it's more of a weaning.

Or maybe this is just an intermission. Maybe someday I'll get to title a post "Mister and Mrs Smith".

Don't roll your eyes and shake your head at me. I like having a modicum of hope in my life. Life is nothing without it.

I'm doing the best I can. It might not be the wisest/healthiest/easiest of paths. I don't know if being in contact with Smith will make things better or worse or no different at all. It seems that unless some twist of fate puts him in this town we'll never be together; we'll never have a shot. Maybe hoping for that twist of fate is a bad idea. Maybe it's the best thing I'll ever do. Maybe it's the worst. Maybe a month from now I won't care. I don't know. I'm just trying to get through the day.

Without eating quite so much junk food.

Without falling to pieces.

Without things having to be completely black or white.