I don't know why I put myself through this. I don't know why I make these scenarios up inside
my head and then panic over them as if this is really what is happening.
He was late, yes. But he showed, apologized for not making it on time
and even smiled and said "well thank you for trying" when I told him
that I had ruined dinner.
On the way out, he turns to me and tells me to watch out for baby frogs and snakes (that have a tendency to slither
up to my door on warm evenings) and makes some joke about kissing frogs and turning them into princes.
"Ribbit" he says, and smiles. I look at him and raise an eyebrow.
"As many times as I've kissed you, one would think you'd have changed already."
"Ouch."
I laugh, tell him I'm joking and ask him to drive carefully.
No, he's not perfect, but he's not as bad as I sometimes imagine him to be. It's me.
It's my insecurities and my overwhelming fear of rejection that cause me to panic so.
There must be something in me that keeps him calling. Something that compells him to introduce
me to his friends, to hold my hand in public, to cook dinner for me, to snuggle up and watch movies, to brush the hair from my face, touch my cheek, to kiss
me tenderly.
He probably should have taken more time after the divorce. I know it and so does he. He could say that it's not the right time and that we
need to stop seeing eachother for now. But he doesn't. He's willing
to juggle these emotions just as I am.
That's gotta mean something, doesn't it?
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