Rules for the Re-Smitten

I had a prolonged chat with an old friend who has politely tried to pull my head out of the cloudbank it was so happily lodged in.  Why, oh why, does someone always feel the need to trash a perfectly good (and perfectly safe) fantasy with the dull everyday of reality.

Sure, M may only be playing again.  He may not want anything from me but a cup of coffee.  Hell, he may not even want the lay before I get him the cup of coffee.  Then again, he might want me to spend the rest of my life with him, getting laid and getting coffee.  I would personally prefer the latter, but one can't be picky.  

I was discussing the loving sweetness that is M with a friend of mine.  He simply dove in for the jugular, reminding me of all the ways M hurt me, ran out, made me cry, and so forth.  I know all these things happened.... SO WHY DO YOU NEED TO TELL THEM TO ME!?!  I know I threw him out of my apartment, into a thunderstorm, in Jan. '06.  I know I didn't leave my home for almost a month, completely downtrodden.  I know the dress I bought to go out with him is sitting in my closet with the tags still on it, never worn.  I can't do it.  It's a beautiful dress, too.  Hugs everything just right....  Just like he would , if he wasn't in New York.

There needs to be rules for the re-smitten.  

1. Don't warn us; we are already well aware of the past  mistakes we've made.

2.Time has passed, and this can help our hearts forgive.  Time does heal, after all.  

3. Don't point out all the flaws in the partner, or in your "friend" either.  We know them all by this point.

There is, however, a difference between the re-smitten and the ex-fuck.  Re-smitten typically desires a nice evening.  Drinks, hand-holding, walking, smiling, gazing, mixed drinks, shared food.....  The Ex-Fuck wants shots of tequila and break-away pants, short shirts, and a clean place to screw (which, technically, could be anywhere.)  

As for me, I am re-smitten.  Although, the fantasies in my head are a bit more like the ex-fuck.  Hmmmmm  :)

Knit Update:  Sweater's complete; pics to come.  Onto sweater 2!

Small Town Update:  We've got an unexplained graffiti problem.  They even vandalized the signs ad the old folks home.  Now THAT breaks my heart.

Forays into iChat

I am the friend.  

On several occasions, I've had my fellow gals ask me if they could use my iChat to "try out their webcams."  I'm the Crash Test Dummy, the "How Do I Look in the Internet World," the "Gee, you're swell, K."  My comments via the webcam usually consist of, "You look great;" "He'll love that outfit;" and "Aww."  Of course, each of them are perfectly groomed and eagerly anticipating the chat with the long-distance boyfriend.  I, on the other hand, have lazily messed up my hair, washed off the make-up, and am happily clad in an ancient Cure t-shirt.... Really, I resemble Robert Smith more than the woman I am during daylight hours.

This is what happens when you're the single friend.  Nobody realizes what I do when I'm home alone at 11pm, 12am, 1am, 2am.....  I knit, I have horrible hair, I talk to my cats, I write, I read, I sing, and tonight I vacuumed.

For the first time, I talked via webcam with a member of the opposite sex.  Not just any member, though.  It was M.  See, M and I have been friends for years.  We met through work, and were simply sold on one another.  We saw one another off and on for years, traveled to see one another (we were separated by several hundred miles,) and it was happy.  Eventually, we fought, didn't speak, and that was the end of that.

Fast forward three years.  I'm out of an abusive L/T relationship, and M's back.  For the first time in years, I talked while looking at him.  There he was, on the other end of the internet, staring back at me and smiling.  It all came back, and I realized how much I care about him, how happy he makes me, and how much better my life is with him as a part of it.  I smiled and laughed with my whole person and the silly things he said and did.

No, there wasn't any nudity!  Flirtation, references to innuendo....  But no nudity!

So there I was, talking to the man I've loved for five years and can't ever tell.  He pauses, says he's going to bed, as it was 12am where he lives, and stares right at the camera.  I froze.  Out came this squeaky little goodnight and a wave. 

I waved at him.  I didn't blow a kiss, I didn't say anything sweet.  I waved like a moron.

His image finally stopped moving, signaling he had signed offline.  I stared at it for a bit; it was strange to see him again after all this time.  So, rather than watching chick flicks or having some giddy little fantasy, I did what my body compelled me to do:  I cleaned.

Aroused?  No.  Domestic?  Yes.  Is this some sign for what's to come of my life?  I'm 28 years old, cute-as-a-button, and should have my motor running after this conversation.  But no, no way, I'm off vacuuming my living room to work out my pent up sexual energy.  Some things in my life I don't understand, and vacuuming as a reaction to seeing M is one of them.  Is this symbolic?  Does he drive forth some desire for domesticity within me, or is the vacuum some Freudian metaphor?  Perhaps now with my floor clean, I can do yoga and really get out some of the pent-up frustration?  Or better, get in shape so when I see him....

Knit Note:  I am 3/4 done with my sweater.  Photos to come.

Small Town Note:  There is some bizarre metal banging noise outside.  It's 2am here.  It's not coming from my porch.  Doors and windows are locked.