So, I went for a walk tonight.
It wasn’t just any walk.
It was a walk to remember.
First off, it is the night before a school day and that, for me, is usually fully packed with no time for me. Hence, no walks and no workouts in the evening for me. And, evening is when I work out best because I have to be at work at 0’dark thirty so getting up even earlier than that, well, screw it. I simply refuse. Let the world reject me. I don’t care.
I hate doing anything before 6 a.m. unless it is making love with the love of my life whom I’ve yet to meet, so whatever already.
The I.J. and I decided to meet and go for a walk tonight. We decided this on Valentine’s as we casually talked about stuff. You know, stuff. The conversation that is no conversation. It’s fun, but takes you nowhere or it takes you everywhere depending…on…so…many…things.
So, we decided to set the time for 8:30. I felt I could have my home reasonably settled down by then. All kids would be back from events, dinner served and cleaned up and the two youngest in bed or heading that way. At 8:20, I was in Target picking up some things I needed for tomorrow night’s presentation (thank God, these will be over for the year after tomorrow night) and I called him and said, “Let’s make it 8:45 and just come on up to the house. He said okay. We clicked off.
8:45 comes and goes. I’m ready and waiting. No I.J.
8:50 comes and goes. I’m ready and waiting. No I.J. and I think, “This is so not like him.” Okay, now that thought right there freaked me out. That I could, with complete confidence say, this was not like someone, was just…well…something I’ve NEVER been able to do where a guy was concerned. I’ve always questioned and doubted because…welllllll….because I never really could trust the stupid guys because they were always so inconsistent. The I.J. has yet to be inconsistent and therein lies the freaking out point….I knew without a doubt that he was not standing me up but that there had been a disconnect somewhere in our communication. (Wow! Amazing concept since the last two significant relationships I’ve been in were all about the guy playing games to manipulate and control.)
My son suggested I just call him. I balked, but only for 5 minutes.
I call at 9:00.
“Hey, where are you?”
“I’m down here on the corner waiting for you.”
He’d not heard me or misunderstood that I wanted him to go ahead and come up to the house. I knew there was a reasonable explanation and, to be honest, this also freaked me out, because after my last few experiences with husbands, men are definitely not to be trusted, so my completely trusting him and not even questioning it, was a huge thing. Yes, I’m getting healthier with respect to all that, but it says more about the I.J.’s complete consistency and unwavering reliability than it does about me. Had he been anything less than honest, I’d have figured it out.
So, I headed out the door for our walk and he met me halfway between the corner where he was parked and my house. Don’t tell me meeting halfway isn’t significant, because I, in my mid-40 wisdom, know so much better.
The minute he met me, we turned in unison and began walking. As we did so, he asked, “So, hey, do you want to go on up to J’s or do you want to go for a real walk.” A man after my own heart. J’s is the little sports bar that is located in the little neighborhood strip mall between his house and mine. We’d talked about my walking up there and just meeting him there but he didn’t feel so comfortable with that with it being dark out and all. I’ve never been to J’s. I’m a tad bit old fashioned and only recently have been going in and hanging out at bars by myself and J’s is not one I’d explored yet. So, we went to J’s.
I’m sad I didn’t get my full 40 minute workout in.
It’s okay, I worked out earlier today with my son.
The I.J. and I had some real conversation. (To know why this is important you’d have to read my password protected post so there. If you want to read it ask for the password otherwise, just guess what it’s about from the context here and be okay with that. It’s up to you.)
I dont’ even know how this happened, but I simply started by asking questions, but not third degree type questions. These questions were “what’s your opinion on that” kind of questions.
First off, I have to back track a bit and make it clear that I did clarify with him where I was on the fact that his divorce, filed though it apparently is, is not final. He seemed to understand and accept my perspective here. At least that is what he said…mind you he said it…not implied it…not grunted it…but said, “I totally understand that that is something that needs to be resolved before we can move ahead.” Well, okay, honestly, I can’t remember exactly what he said but that was very, very close.
And, of course, my head was spinning about that statement alone. I mean, wow, it was so…what an adult would say. Go figure. No tension, no drama, just the straight up reality.
He ordered Scotch, and strangely I waffled. I usually go for a Long Island Ice Tea hands down every time and completely with confidence, but tonight was feeling like it needed something different so I ordered a Bombay Sapphire Martini. We sat and chatted over our drinks, but it wasn’t just light small talk chat.
We covered a great deal of ground.
We talked about a lot of stuff that isn’t just small talk joking trivial fun stuff.
We talked about his recent dating history and mine. We talked about a lot of stuff! In a short amount of time!
At one point, I shared with him my “Are we building a house or a playground” analogy (see previous posts about this). I actually shared this with him in the context of saying how important I feel communication is in relationship and how, disagreement and differing perspectives don’t freak me out nearly as much as simple non-communication.
He cut to the chase with that and said, “I’d love to build a house with you.”
He told me he understood that “building a house” didn’t mean marriage or LTR, it simply meant an exclusive relationship where we take it a day at a time and see what happens.
He told me that my baggage, and he knows what it is, doesn’t phase him.
He told me he understands that I cannot even begin to build the house until I see proof the divorce is final.
It wasn’t small talk. It definitely moved us forward, or somewhere. And, it gave me a glimpse into the fact that quite possibly here might be a man who could very well surprise me in so very many really wonderful ways.
2 thoughts on “Conversing With The Italian Job”
Not unlike a conversation I have had recently about the divorce.
It sounds like you have gotten pretty good at recognizing the bad apples before they start to rot. I would like to read the protected post if that is ok, I may take a page from your book on that front.
Thanks for the plug BTW.
Hmmm, Signifier, which part sounded like the conversation you recently had about the divorce? The part that was conversation that was no conversation or the part that was stating you needed to have the divorce before things could go further?
Hmmmm, do tell! Enquiring minds want to know.
Yep, figuring out the rotting apples is all about detecting patterns. The ones who are going to rot follow a particular rotting pattern. It’s them apples that don’t follow the same rotting pattern that you have to stop, pick up and spend some time with to really see if they are as ripe, red, juicy and available to eat as they appear. But, no biting before you purchase. Grocery store managers hate that.