The Telltale Texts

With trembling hands I pressed the "received calls" button. It's not so much that I was nervous about being caught in the act (I'd know exactly when he was about to awaken because his loud snuffling and wheezing would stop). Mostly I was filled with a horrible dread over what I might be about to discover. Years ago, I'd happened upon an email filled with compromising information about my then-boyfriend, and there is a part of me that can still feel the ice-cold jolt of pain that cut through my heart and literally knocked the wind out of me as I read about his infidelities that day. Squinting with apprehension, I watched the small screen of CB's phone fill up with a list of calls.

There was nothing incriminating there: several calls from me, his kids, his mom, and some local unnamed numbers. I breathed a sigh of relief. So far so good. I switched to "dialed calls" next. More random numbers, a bunch of 411 calls (his monthly bill must be pretty high - those calls can add up), then my name and more of his family members appeared. But wait! as I scrolled down, I saw two calls from the day before - to "JoAnn," the drunken ex! And several more calls to her, each day before that, going back as far as the phone's history would allow. Worse, mixed in with the outgoing calls to her, other women's names came up as well: Trudi, Barbie, Khloe - sexy-sounding names I'd never heard mention of before, and definitely not family members. CB had made all of these calls very late in the evening, after 11PM or midnight. This new development just didn't coincide with the tired schlubby 53 year-old virgin sleeping noisily just 10 feet away from me. My knuckles were white now and my blood pressure felt like it was through the roof. I couldn't believe what I was seeing and was suddenly afraid of what else I might find, but there was no stopping now. I knew I had to look at his texts next, but which to read first? Sent, or received?

I pressed "messages" and the inbox popped up, so I read the incoming texts first. Apparently JoAnn, the drunken ex, preferred phone calls, because there was nothing from her. But "Barbie" had sent him numerous texts filled with abbreviations, emoticons, and many exclamation marks in the style of a teenage girl. Exactly how old was she? I read hers first, in reverse order. I detected a thread about his Christmas party, with many messages asking CB what she should wear and how should she fix her hair: in an "up-do" or "soft and swirly?" WTF? I clearly recalled the conversation about our respective work holiday parties, and how he'd told me sadly that due to the economy, his company was not having one this year. And now I was reading that he took her to his Christmas party last Friday night, the same night that he said he was working late and his phone had died, so he couldn't call me on the way home like he usually did!?! Next came the part about the intimate Christmas gift exchange between the two of them. Barbie was thanking him for the Tantric book, noting that it was full of sexy pictures, and she couldn't wait to read it. OMFG. I switched over to "sent" messages and read his replies to her. About the book, he wrote, "I bought it for us, sweetie!" I glanced over at the hideous painting he'd just given me - the lying, cheating, sack of shit. I had half a mind to break it over his ugly head, but I read on instead.

Next I read the messages sent to "Trudi," who's obviously married. "Is Bruno home?" and "Has Bruno left yet?" comprised the gist of most of his texts to her. Presumably after those, they either met in person or spoke on the phone. So many texts, but suddenly I just didn't have the stomach for any more. I never even got as far as "Khloe." The lousy drooling mess sprawled across my loveseat looked sloppier and more pathetic by the minute, and by now I truly hated the sight of him. I just wanted him gone, gone from my house and gone from my life. I walked over, shook him, and said, "You need to leave now." He came awake with a start, saw the look on my face, and asked, "What's wrong, sweetie?" "That's not my name!" I told him, disgusted by his douchebag ladies'-man technique of calling all of his girlfriends by the same pet nickname.

He got up and moved in to give me a hug. I asked him to please clarify for me one last time whether or not we were in an exclusive sexual relationship. He swore up and down that I was the only woman in his life. Why do men continue to lie even when they know they are found out? I pushed him away and told him to leave and that I never wanted to see him again. I didn't want to have a conversation about what I knew; I just wanted him gone. He said he deserved an explanation at least (the asshole son of a bitch really just wanted to find out how much I knew so he could try to explain away whatever dirt I might have on him). But I'd been there before and had already heard all of the "I didn't plan this; it just happened" and "it was all her idea" excuses from another man. I wasn't interested in catching him in any more lies, nor was I even curious about the details (although I can't even imagine what kind of juggling act it must take to carry on with other partners when he's with me 3 or 4 nights a week). In the end I pointed to his phone and said I'd seen that he had been lying to me about talking to "JoAnn," and it was over between us. He had a stupid, helpless, deer-in-the-headlights look on his face which I recognized from that time when the drunken ex had freaked out after seeing him with me, back when I should have listened harder to my intuition.

I wish I could report that he got his things, said he was sincerely sorry that he had hurt me, and left with a tiny shred of dignity intact. But the CB isn't a man with enough integrity, balls, or conscience to make an exit like that. Instead, he proceeded to beg, bargain, and blame his indiscretions on her. After a few minutes, I told him that if what he'd just been saying were in fact the truth, he should be able to call her up right now, in front of me, and tell her all of the things he'd just told me: he was just helping her through a lonely time, he had no feelings for her, and she needed to stop trying to seduce him and just go away. Predictably, he refused, saying that he would have to have that conversation in private, in his own time. "We're done," I repeated, "you will be on your way - now." As he shuffled out the door, I looked back at the table and saw that he'd left behind the brandy I'd given him. Good. I thought what a nice picture that would make for someone to paint: Still life with snifter.

(Stilllife courtesy of annyash 760)

The Gift Exchange

The CB wanted to see me before leaving town, so I invited him over for dinner. Wanting to keep things warm and Christmasy, I postponed addressing my dilemma about his less than loving feelings for me. Nor was I planning on bringing up my disappointment over being left out of his family gathering. I'd decided to just let things ride between us for now and enjoy a pleasant evening exchanging gifts before he departed. Hopefully he would do some serious thinking about us on the long drive and realize how important I really am to him. If not, then I'd break up with him.

After shopping for a gift that wouldn't seem too intimate, I settled on a nice bottle of brandy for him. It was decoratively packaged along with two small snifters, and it seemed appropriately neutral. I was relieved that I hadn't chosen anything more personal than alcohol after unwrapping the present he gave me: a framed watercolor of some sunflowers. I tried to summon up a few words of appreciation, but frankly I was speechless. I don't know what unromantic sentiment or lack of artistic sense moved him to choose this particular picture, but it doesn't go with anything I have anywhere in my house nor does it even remotely resemble something I'd ever choose for myself. In fact, it is so definitely not my taste that my daughter determined it to be a regift when she laid eyes on it the next day. I thanked him politely anyway, because it's the thought that counts, and then we ate dinner. Afterwards, we sat by the fire, listened to music, and talked.

CB said he was exhausted from working late all week and seemed sincerely grateful that I took the time to cook such a nice meal for him. We discussed our kids, what we were getting them for Christmas, his trip north and where he'd be staying, and our plans for New Year's Eve. Intuition prompted me to inquire about his crazy drunken ex-girlfriend, JoAnn. I'd noticed that he had been more distant and "busy" than usual; he seemed sort of preoccupied and tired all the time now. Something was obviously distracting him, so I casually asked if he had heard from her lately. He told me he hadn't had any contact with her at all and really didn't expect to hear anything. She was definitely out of his life, and good riddance to her, etc. etc. After we sipped some of his brandy and kissed a little, he began to doze off in the comfy overstuffed chair next to the warm fireplace. This had been happening all too frequently lately - instead of sex, he'd simply fall asleep at bedtime. Six weeks' time is way too early for the honeymoon to be over in my opinion, and I was annoyed. Once again I had to admit to myself that this romance had gone from good to bad in a very short time.

 Soon he was in a deep sleep and snoring very loudly, so I got up and sat at the table to check emails on my laptop. His keys, wallet, and cell phone were lying nearby where he'd left them, and it was then that I made up my mind. I would open his phone and see for myself exactly who he had been calling and texting besides me for the past few weeks. I know that this is the kind of desperate action that only a jealous wife would take, but as his exclusive romantic partner, no one could deny that I had every right to know if he were seeing (or doing) someone else. And if I found nothing out of the ordinary, then maybe there was still a tiny shred of hope that his feelings for me would grow and even blossom given time. Either way, I had absolutely nothing to lose...

The Steve Harvey Test

I read this book by Steve Harvey a while ago and wrote about how it provided a handy barometer I could use to measure men's intentions. If you have read that post, then you know that I believe the two questions he suggests you should ask the man in your life are valuable and probably worth the price of the book.

The Cunning Bilingualist and I have been intimate and affectionate with each other while having a jolly old time dating these past few months, but I realized the other day that I'd never asked him Mr. Harvey's two very important questions. It had completely slipped my mind, probably because he revealed his intentions to me right away and things seemed so perfect between us, and besides, he'd already gotten "the cookie."  There was no reason to ask, because he had told me early on how he felt, and  that seemed satisfactory to me at the time. Also, now that the holidays are here and he has relatives visiting, I had other,  more pressing questions. I wanted to ask him when I'd get to meet his people. I knew that he had told his kids about me, and I had also told mine about him as well, but we didn't get a chance to get together at Thanksgiving due to our travel plans. This holiday he will travel to visit his kids, and mine will be coming here to visit me, so we will miss each other once again. But other family members of his will be in town before he leaves, and I wanted to know if and when we would meet, and how he would introduce me to them. Would he say, "This is my 'friend' Juliette," or, "I'd like you to meet my girlfriend," or would he leave a title off completely and introduce me by name and let them figure it out?

A few days ago, the CB had a visit from his brother and sister-in-law. They came to town unexpectedly on a Saturday, the same day that he had previously invited me over for a barbeque in the afternoon. I got a voicemail from him at noon informing me that he was on his way to a restaurant with his relatives. They would be staying until late afternoon, so he apologetically informed me that our barbeque would have to be postponed until another day. His brother had offered to lend a hand with some landscaping, and he wanted to take advantage of the extra help. He didn't ask me to come meet them for lunch, which was understandable, since I was at the hairdresser's, but I assumed that when I was finished, he would invite me over. I was looking forward to it, glad that my hair would be fresh from the stylist and looking its best. I was eager to make their acquaintance, since I'd heard plenty of stories about them. I figured that we would get together for drinks or tea since our dinner plans were so abruptly canceled. But when I returned his call, CB and his brother were working outside trimming trees, and it didn't cross his mind to invite me over. He did mention some drama with the sister-in-law (who apparently can be very controlling), but there was no invitation to stop by, not even briefly just to say hi. Needless to say, I was surprised and not a little disappointed. Instead of voicing my confusion then and there, I resolved to ask him the two Steve Harvey questions as soon as possible, to determine just exactly where I stood with this man. Maybe I had missed some important cue, since we were clearly not on the same page (I had already met his mother, who lives with him, but obviously some family members are more important than others to him)? Perhaps it really was a bad time to meet them that day. Or maybe he just didn't have the right kind of feelings for me, and I wasn't important enough to him to be introduced to his only brother. I needed answers fast.

Finally, while sitting face to face at dinner a few days later, I got the chance to ask him Steve Harvey's two questions. CB's first answer was excellent and reassuring. What he thought of me was all good, very complimentary, and reinforced what I already knew to be true. I gave him positive strokes for sharing, and he agreed that it was good for us to be talking about this, because although we conversed a lot on our first date, neither of us really remembers much of what was said that night, since we were both in the moment and digesting the fact that we had a lot of chemistry between us. I braced myself before asking question #2. He had already said that he loved me late one night in bed as he was drifting off to sleep. He writes it in texts and emails to me and says it on my voicemail frequently, but face-to-face, not so much. Now that I thought about it, I realized he had never looked directly in my eyes and spoken those 3 words in broad daylight. I had no idea what answer he'd give, but I felt that I'd know if he was telling the truth. Then I asked him, and it seems that what he feels about me boils down to this: he feels that I'm comfortable to be around, fun to be with, and he's happy that he found me, but there was no mention of love, or anything even close to words you would find in a thesaurus if you looked it up. I had already told myself to stay cheerful and keep a smile on my face no matter what he said, so I thanked him for being honest, and we chatted on. I did not let on how disheartening it was to hear that answer, because I wasn't sure what action I would take if this happened (I knew in my heart it was a strong possibility after not being invited to meet his only sibling). We carried on our conversation as if nothing of importance had just occurred, but for me, everything had instantly changed, and not for the good.

Certainly I don't want to be in a romantic relationship with a man who isn't in love with me. I know that "friends with benefits" can work for some people, but not me, not in a long-term relationship, which is what we had both agreed we wanted. Still, this man is a decent lover, and we've had some good times. He is close by and convenient, and I know I'll always have a date on Saturday nights if I keep him around. He likes me, thinks I'm smart and funny, but he's just not in love with me. Yet. Would I be a fool to break up with him right before Christmas? We have plans for New year's Eve! And what about his Christmas present? I originally bought him a gift certificate for a massage, but that seems a little too intimate now,  knowing how he doesn't feel about me. I'll have to find a more generic gift, something you'd give a good friend, not a lover.  He'll be out of town for a week, so I don't need to take any action yet, but our relationship is clearly not what I imagined it to be a few days ago. Strangely, I'm not sad or as depressed about this as I should be. I had almost fallen for him, was loving being with him, but if I were truly in love, wouldn't I be more upset over this?  Other than hating the idea of going back on Match, I'm clearly not devastated by the news that he's not head over heels in love with me. In fact, due to the increased attention I'm receiving from other men now, maybe it could work to my advantage to keep dating him until I find someone better. What if we just stayed together in spite of this discovery? Would our feelings for each other grow? Could I tolerate a relationship where we both have only mild feelings for each other? Kind of a love 'lite'? Hmmmmm...I've got a lot of thinking to do.

Stay tuned for part II.

When It Rains, It Pours

There is something about being in a new relationship that must make us more attractive to the opposite sex. I spent most of this past summer actively seeking male attention out in the real world to no avail, but now that I am involved with the Cunning Bilingualist, I am suddenly getting attention from all kinds of men. Is there a visible "good sex" vibe, or is it just the season for men to become more interested in dating? It's ironic that now that I'm no longer seeking them, available men seem to be coming out of the woodwork.

The first time, it took me nearly an hour to realize what was happening. I was on Thanksgiving vacation with my kids in Northern California at a hot springs resort when a nice-looking man my age struck up a conversation with me in the warm pool. He continued to chat me up until I realized that he was starting to monopolize my time and take my attention away from my family. I excused myself, explaining my priority to him, all the while wondering why I couldn't get this kind of attention from attractive men when I visited there last summer, actively seeking out encounters of that kind.

Shortly after that, the Writer called me up out of the blue, ostensibly to "say hi and catch up," but in reality trying to round up some female company to enjoy during the holidays. I'm sure that I wouldn't have gone out with him even if I weren't dating the CB, but it felt good to tell him that I had met someone really nice and that I was not currently looking to go out with other men. It was a satisfying conversation, for me at least, because it confirmed what I had concluded about him a year ago; he's a talker, not a doer. When I asked him if he had finished his book yet, the answer (unsurprisingly) was no, he still needed to edit a few final chapters, and he had a deadline of the end of December (the very same as a year ago!). When I asked him if he was dating anyone (I had noticed that his profile disappeared from Match a few months ago), he said yes, he had met someone a while back, but he supposed that things had sort of faded with her by now. In other words, he did the disappearing act on her too. Finally, he said that he had been in a car accident and had gotten whiplash, his excuse for not doing anything at all last year. What a piece of work. How did I ever fall for his BS when I met him last October?

A few days later, I received a nice long text message from Tall Man, who originally contacted me last summer. We had met on Match and exchanged emails and one phone conversation.  Our first call became our last when I discovered that he was still living with his wife and was neither separated nor divorced from her. I told him I wouldn't be interested until he was done with his divorce. His text informed me that he was now living alone and the divorce would be final in less than two months. He said he would really like to meet for a glass of wine if I were so inclined.

Since things are still flourishing with the CB, I was not tempted by any of the above offers, but it made me wonder if the advice my friend Mitch gave me might possibly hold a shred of truth. He told me, "When you stop looking, that's when you find love".  I have a hard time believing it can be that simple. I prefer to think that it's the "happy and satisfied" vibe that is causing men to notice me now.

Meanwhile, things continue to blossom between the CB and me. It's been 7 weeks since our first date. We talk every single day and we get together 2 or 3 times a week. Our dates continue to be fun and exciting. He still snores, but since he only lives 5 minutes away, one of us can get up and drive home to our own bed if we need to be up early the next day. We have plans to be together during the holidays. So far, I have no reason to look any further for a good man.

How To Avoid The Swine Flu

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