In raptures of the vocals to a song I love, I smile to myself. I…melt inside, if you will.
To every which way that is possible. The lyrics hit a pinpoint in me. I lavish on the idealism…when I realize the song is about me.
My ex would never…
The joke floating around is – if Mercury Retrograde doesn’t bring an ex back, you’ve learned your lesson. What an awkward time for him to step in, given the developments in areas of my life…like relationships.
My ex spent months lying to me before we were initially together. There were other women. He didn’t just have eyes for me – he hoped he’d worn me down enough that it wouldn’t matter.
And then, there’s my mystery man. A mystery to you, unless we speak often 🙂
He spent a number of months trying to catch my attention…peacocking if you will. Oh, I noticed. I was deathly afraid of the outcome given his affection or mine…
I play the song again, the second verse is intense.
All jokes and what ever mysteries aside – I was told he was coming. The exact visage, the exact art. Even as he is, for what he is and all that he is doing. So, how awkward would it be if my ex shuffled in, not that he has enough spine to do so.
I found a burner account of his recently, and blocked it. I’m sure he can make another one if he hasn’t already.
Then the conversation about his communication style came up.
Bombarding me with texts and calls daily. It was as if he thought I’d be making an escape. He couldn’t stop me when I left. All of that anxiety and control for nothing.
My mind idles on our mystery man. That’s what we’ll call him for now. I ran. My mania reared its ugly head…and I tried to pull my disappearing act.
Then I felt a twinge of regret.
Here – actions speak louder than words. Who waits a day or more to see if they’ve been unblocked? A devoted man. Maybe even obsessive.
I bite my lip to the thought of that. He gave chase.
In the digital age of liking photos and love bombing, someone pulled a page from the way love used to go. The attention – directed towards one, knowing she’d notice, and no one else would. The shyness. So, very coy and yet expansive and deep in their true nature.
The possessiveness. Not needing a reason, holding on to me anyway.
It all makes for the perfect package. Perhaps even my next round of novels. It is a huge difference, certainly not what I’m used to.
If I danced on the cliffs age, would his fingers grip my waist? I wonder – Not that I’d do that to us.
Not that I’d need to be there, anyway.