Non-Receptive Surfaces

He always said, "Worry only sticks to receptive surfaces...."

I'm one of those lovable nutcases who believes in signs from the universe and cosmic happenings. I'm spiritual but not religious. I believe what we do does influence the outcome of what happens. The weekend happenings mentioned in the previous post were not lost on me, and I found myself wondering what the universe was trying to tell me. It isn't always good news I'm afraid, but warning signs.

So when I'm driving home from work and my phone starts ringing a special ring tone that come to find out I haven't heard in more than a year, I really couldn't figure out what my phone was doing: not a text message ringtone, not an email ringtone, not a phone call ringtone. Until I looked down and almost drove off the road.

It was L calling, and I had given him a ringtone all of his own with a lovely little black and white photo of him playing guitar right there next to the number. It may as well have been dancing naked for the shock I felt. I couldn't have answered it even if I wanted. And I didn't want. No really I didn't. Surely you know, after the last post and the post where I had to tell him before my birthday that I never wanted to see him again, that I'm really not interested in this man anymore. Not matter how much I loved him once; he's like poison to me now.

But STILL the whole situation tugs at my worthless heart and drags me down. People believe that women like drama even while they say they don't, thus continuing the vicious cycle. I don't know, I can't stand this. It gets under my skin, I want to hide, I eat more, and I just can't focus. Do I sound like I'm enjoying myself? Not my idea of fun.

He was never the type to leave much voicemail in general in the 4 years we were together. So when the voicemail notice came on, I was curious and listened. Damn his voice.

Oddness. He had a dream, and not being an overly spiritual man (perhaps his age is wearing him down), I found it odd that he would put so much emphasis on it. Just a lie, just an excuse, bullshit to get to talk to me, these thoughts were echoed by the ever wise Sweden who was thankfully available for immediate consultation.

If so, he chose the one subject matter that he knew would sink me: he had a dream about my sweet Sena. He said she came to him in this dream and he was concerned it meant something was wrong with me.

At face value, from someone else, I would find that particularly moving and sweet.

From him, I feel it is manipulative and controlling, even if it is true. Particularly when at the end of the voicemail, he says "Don't call me. I'll try to call again."

Of course, don't call him and disturb the Mrs.

ASSHOLE. Most women WOULD call, immediately, because we don't like to be told what to do.

And then there were two further communications. Text messages. Within one minute of each other.

1st: Are you ok?

2nd: Sorry to bother you, don't write me back.

Um passive-aggressive tendencies anyone?

I don't know about you but that just pisses me off.

Anyone like this kind of drama? You can have it.

I'm going into the How To Recover From Loving a Lying Sex Addict Protection Program.