Last night I was texting Caesar and we were discussing if he should come over and hang out. I was spending time in the apartment blogging it up, talking to my roommates, talking to my roommates’ parents and enjoying one of my last evenings of break. Caesar had decided he did want to come over, but he was exhausted after an entire afternoon and evening with family and I decided I wanted to meet the people who trashed my apartment the night before who were coming over for round two.
There were many of them, and at least two of the four who came over had enough volume for all six people in the apartment (previously mentioned Ramona and Ashton). There were also Cora, a very quiet red head and Boe a 27 year old gay guy who I guess is still in college? I can’t think of another reason why he’d want to spend time with five girls in their early 20s. After playing Cards Against Humanity to the point of disgust I broke down and decided I wanted to go and visit Caesar. Before I say anything else, nothing happened–only really good kissing and the watching of New Girl re-runs. While he did kiss me as I tried to watch the show… something weird happened. I stopped wanting to watch the show and wanted to kiss him instead.
But like I said, that’s all that happened and then he passed out. Here’s a little more about Caesar though, so I can paint a decent picture. I’m 5′ 3” and while cuddling on his couch I noticed that when lined up next to each other (head to head) my feet only reach his knees. In the looks department, if you’ve ever seen Jackson from Desperate Housewives, as far as coloring, hair cut and build it’s spot on. But he’s much much bigger than me. Not fat, just… a bigger person. He lives in a two bedroom, one bathroom house with a roommate and a cat named Amber.
While I drove home after he fell asleep I got a message, of course now of all times, from my ex Joni. Let me just give you some background on what’s been happening with us for the last two years:
Me, 6 Months after breaking up: I made a huge mistake. I love you. I want you back.
Him: I’m seeing someone else now. I can’t.
Me, one year after breaking up: I think I’m okay now. I think I can finally move on.
Him: Let me tell you everything you’ve been needing to hear, and completely hook you again only to go MIA for a month and not text or call you back and then when I do, tell you I changed my mind.
Me, a year and a half after breaking up: I’m getting better. I think we can be friends. But I’ll always love you.
Him: I love you too. I miss you. I need you. But I can’t break up with my girlfriend. I need to know you won’t leave me.
Me: I’ve waited this long, I’m not going anywhere. Let’s do this for real this time.
Me, last night: I am so happy. I’m great. Who’s Joni?
Him: Hi. I miss you. I don’t want to lose you. Come and visit me. Let’s see if this is real.
Me: How’s your girlfriend?
Him: I’m sorry, I just can’t leave her. But I love you.
Can you believe that crap? Last night for the first time in about two years I said “no” and it didn’t hurt like it did before and I realized something while scream-singing Sara Bareilles’s “Gravity,” “Love on the Rocks,” and “Brave” that the whole searching for love thing has been me always searching for a relationship and boyfriend without ever really caring about who it was, as long as I was with someone.
What I should have been looking for is someone who really gets me. Someone who can totally see me and understand me–because if they don’t understand you and you don’t understand them what’s the point of a relationship? I would much rather be with someone who understands me and loves me than with someone who doesn’t even know me and loves me.
I mean, I’m not as exhausted as Charlotte, but still… perspective. Now I’m back in my apartment, hanging out and trying to figure out what the horrendous noise is coming from the TV in the living room and wondering… come Valentine’s day, who will I be spending it with? I love Valentine’s day. I think this is the first time I might have more than zero prospects to spend it with.