Ultimate Closure
After the "Slow Dancing" post, Carlos & I had a John Mayer "Come Back To Bed" moment. I asked him to show me the sex tape he made of us making love in 2005 and went to bed when he appeared to not be making any effort to fish it out. When he didn't come to bed for a while, I went to the living room looking for him. When I didn't find him there, I went to the kitchen and found it empty. "Where are you?" I called out as I rounded the corner to the guest room. I stopped in the hallway when I saw him in the guest room looking incredibily guilty with a shoebox full of God knows what in his hands. "I'm right here," he said like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. I shook my head and went back to bed. He came into the bedroom a short time later with the tape playing on his video camera. After watching it together, I tried to go to sleep while he put the tape away. He crawled into bed next to me a short time later.
"So, what'd you think?" he curiously asked.
"Of what?" I sleepily replied.
"Of the tape! What'd you think?" he asked again. I ignored him as I tried to go to sleep and let the sounds and images fade from my mind. "What'd you think of the tape? What'd you think?" he proded over and over.
"I think you're right. I think it's bad," I flatly replied.
"Why do you think it's bad?" he asked. "What's bad about it?" he inquired.
"It's just bad!" I stated.
"But what's bad about it? Why is it bad?" he insistently implored.
"It's bad lighting. It's bad sound. It's bad that it exists! It's just bad!" I exclaimed.
"Ok, let's make another one," he said as he stroked my back.
"No," I said.
"C'mon, before you came down you said we could make another one," he insisted.
"Ok, we can make another right after you give me an engagement ring," I said.
"Oh, well nevermind then," he lamented.
The next morning, he woke me up in a tizzy, "Oh shit! It's 5:15!" Given that my flight was scheduled to leave at 6, I knew I wouldn't make it to the airport in time to catch it. He rushed me along as I dressed and collected my things from around the house. He sped off to the airport as I took slow drags on one of the remaining clove cigarettes. I tried to open the passenger's side window when he said, "It doesn't work," and opened the driver's side window. He then opened the ash tray and I reached for it to flick off some of the growing ashes. I missed and hit the dash just above it when he hit one of the plethora of potholes in the road on the way to the airport. "What are doing?! That's not the ashtray!" he said with more than annoyance in his voice. I could tell he was wishing I didn't smoke, but I kept myself from saying what I thought every time he'd looked at me with disdain when I had a cigarette in my hand..."You're the one who introduce me to this."
As he pulled to a stop outside the drop off point at the airport, I got out and said, "There's probably not going to be a flight today." "Okay, give me a call," he said as he gave me a half-hearted hug & kiss on the cheek. Instead of trying to get him to understand or convince him to wait, I scurried off to the check in hoping I'd make my flight. Alas, I checked in 7 minutes too late and was rebooked on the first flight out on Tuesday. I called him to let him know of my delay and then thought of what I could do while I waited.
My first thought was to go to his house and find the tape. My mind started racing when I realized he'd be at work and I could get the tape without him even knowing I had it. When he called me back, I told him I was delayed. "So, can you take a taxi back to my place?" he inconsiderately asked. "Yes," I said without comment on the fact that he had more than enough time to scoop me up and still get to work on time. "Well, the side garage door is open," he informed me (of what I already knew). "Okay," I said, still thinking I could get there, get the tape, and get a hotel room before he finished leading his morning meeting. While I was on my way to his house in the cab, he called to inform me that the front door was open. "Nice," I thought to myself. He went home after he knew I was going there and could very well have been a step ahead of me and taken the tape with him. I then called my prayer partner for guidance.
"What would you do?" I asked her, unsure of whether I should rifle through his things in search of the worst sex tape ever. After she got past the fact that I'd at one time let him make a sex tape of us she said, "I'd go get the tape!" "Yes, but I'm not who I used to be! I'm not the kind of woman to go through his things any more! I don't care who he's sleeping with, I just know I don't want him to have the tape!" I explained. "So, if I had a sex tape of us, would you want me to have it?" she profoundly asked. "I'd be fine with you having it," I said. "Why?" she asked. "Because I trust you," I stated. "Then this isn't about the tape," she said, "It's about trust. You don't trust him." "No, I don't trust him," I replied.
Once I got to his house, my mind was reeling with the possibilities. I layed down to collect my thoughts. Not 90 minutes after I got to his house (and mere minutes after he finished his morning meeting) he called. "Did you get in the house?" he asked. "Yes," I replied. "Are you cleaning the house?" he asked with an expectant tone. "No," I said, restraining an indignant reply. "What are you doing?" he inquired. "Laying down," I said. "Well no harm intended but, don't go through my things," he demanded. "Carlos," I sighed. "Just a word of caution, don't go through my things," he warned. keeping my two goals and one understanding in mind I said, "Carlos, I'll see you later," and cut him off before we got into an argument.
After much telephonic counseling from my prayer partner & the guy from Match.com that I've been talking to for several months, I decided not to go through his things. I realized that this wasn't about him this was about me, and I wanted to demonstrate to myself that I'm not the woman I used to be (the one who would feel insecure and need to know what he might be hiding in addition to that awful tape). I wanted to prove to myself that I could stand up to him, show my spine, & just ask for the tape face to face.
When he got home Monday evening he informed me that he had plans for the evening and offered the use of his truck. "That would be great," I replied without commenting that it's common courtesy to let your guest know where you're going when they come to visit you and you leave them at your home. I knew he had class that evening, so I figured he'd be back about 9 after it was over. When 11 PM rolled around and he'd only called to respond to my voice message letting him know that his truck wouldn't start, I took a deep breathe at his attempt to disrespect me. When he came home at midnight and found me asleep on the couch, I didn't bother to ask where he'd been. I cut to the chase and decided it was time for closure.
"So, I didn't go through your things," I started. "I didn't ask you if you went through my things," he snorted. "Well, I want the tape," I started again. "No," he flatly replied. From his insolent tone, I knew that anything else I said would just result in my not achieving my goal of a no drama visit. He confirmed it when he inadvertantly said, "Absolutely not. You can't have the tape."
"My flight leaves at 6 AM," I said, hoping to diffuse the brewing tension. "Why'd you go and get an early flight?" he asked. "I need to go back to work and I don't want to get bumped again," I stated. "Yeah, you could be here all week," he noted, "but you could work from home" he said while thinking out loud. "I want to go home," I replied. "I miss my own house and my own bed. I miss my home," I confirmed.
Shortly thereafter, I packed my things in anticipation of leaving in the morning. I set the alarm on both my personal & business cellphones. I'd be damned if I was going to oversleep again. He crawled into bed and asked me again, "what's wrong with the tape?" "It's just bad, Carlos." "Okay, let's make another one," he asked. "No," I flatly replied. He then asked for other disgusting and unmentionable sex acts to which I unwaveringly replied, "No." "C'mon, we've done everything you wanted, why not?" he asked. "Because somethings only need to be done once," I said.
In the morning as I dressed, I stated again, "Carlos, I really want the tape." "You may as well change the subject," he fumed. I pulled together the rest of my things and we headed off to the airport. On the way there, he asked when my flight arrived. "11," I quietly stated. "Are you going to work today?" he inquired. "Yes. Straight from the airport to work," I said. Then I realized that I'd left my cardigan on the chair in his living room. I asked him if he would send it to me. "Yeah, just email me your address," he coldly replied. "You can send it to either work or home," I replied when I realized I'd never given him my new home address & really wanting to keep it that way. When we got to the airport, he pulled my things out of the truck and said, "We're on much better time that we were yesterday." I knodded as I collected myself. "Bye," he said with even less warmth in his half-hearted hug & cheek kiss goodbye than the day before.
So here I am waiting to board the plane home. He didn't ask me to call him to let him know I got home safely, and I'd be surprised if he bothers to send my cardigan to me. I've had the ultimate closure this weekend, and I'm not interested in looking back.
"So, what'd you think?" he curiously asked.
"Of what?" I sleepily replied.
"Of the tape! What'd you think?" he asked again. I ignored him as I tried to go to sleep and let the sounds and images fade from my mind. "What'd you think of the tape? What'd you think?" he proded over and over.
"I think you're right. I think it's bad," I flatly replied.
"Why do you think it's bad?" he asked. "What's bad about it?" he inquired.
"It's just bad!" I stated.
"But what's bad about it? Why is it bad?" he insistently implored.
"It's bad lighting. It's bad sound. It's bad that it exists! It's just bad!" I exclaimed.
"Ok, let's make another one," he said as he stroked my back.
"No," I said.
"C'mon, before you came down you said we could make another one," he insisted.
"Ok, we can make another right after you give me an engagement ring," I said.
"Oh, well nevermind then," he lamented.
The next morning, he woke me up in a tizzy, "Oh shit! It's 5:15!" Given that my flight was scheduled to leave at 6, I knew I wouldn't make it to the airport in time to catch it. He rushed me along as I dressed and collected my things from around the house. He sped off to the airport as I took slow drags on one of the remaining clove cigarettes. I tried to open the passenger's side window when he said, "It doesn't work," and opened the driver's side window. He then opened the ash tray and I reached for it to flick off some of the growing ashes. I missed and hit the dash just above it when he hit one of the plethora of potholes in the road on the way to the airport. "What are doing?! That's not the ashtray!" he said with more than annoyance in his voice. I could tell he was wishing I didn't smoke, but I kept myself from saying what I thought every time he'd looked at me with disdain when I had a cigarette in my hand..."You're the one who introduce me to this."
As he pulled to a stop outside the drop off point at the airport, I got out and said, "There's probably not going to be a flight today." "Okay, give me a call," he said as he gave me a half-hearted hug & kiss on the cheek. Instead of trying to get him to understand or convince him to wait, I scurried off to the check in hoping I'd make my flight. Alas, I checked in 7 minutes too late and was rebooked on the first flight out on Tuesday. I called him to let him know of my delay and then thought of what I could do while I waited.
My first thought was to go to his house and find the tape. My mind started racing when I realized he'd be at work and I could get the tape without him even knowing I had it. When he called me back, I told him I was delayed. "So, can you take a taxi back to my place?" he inconsiderately asked. "Yes," I said without comment on the fact that he had more than enough time to scoop me up and still get to work on time. "Well, the side garage door is open," he informed me (of what I already knew). "Okay," I said, still thinking I could get there, get the tape, and get a hotel room before he finished leading his morning meeting. While I was on my way to his house in the cab, he called to inform me that the front door was open. "Nice," I thought to myself. He went home after he knew I was going there and could very well have been a step ahead of me and taken the tape with him. I then called my prayer partner for guidance.
"What would you do?" I asked her, unsure of whether I should rifle through his things in search of the worst sex tape ever. After she got past the fact that I'd at one time let him make a sex tape of us she said, "I'd go get the tape!" "Yes, but I'm not who I used to be! I'm not the kind of woman to go through his things any more! I don't care who he's sleeping with, I just know I don't want him to have the tape!" I explained. "So, if I had a sex tape of us, would you want me to have it?" she profoundly asked. "I'd be fine with you having it," I said. "Why?" she asked. "Because I trust you," I stated. "Then this isn't about the tape," she said, "It's about trust. You don't trust him." "No, I don't trust him," I replied.
Once I got to his house, my mind was reeling with the possibilities. I layed down to collect my thoughts. Not 90 minutes after I got to his house (and mere minutes after he finished his morning meeting) he called. "Did you get in the house?" he asked. "Yes," I replied. "Are you cleaning the house?" he asked with an expectant tone. "No," I said, restraining an indignant reply. "What are you doing?" he inquired. "Laying down," I said. "Well no harm intended but, don't go through my things," he demanded. "Carlos," I sighed. "Just a word of caution, don't go through my things," he warned. keeping my two goals and one understanding in mind I said, "Carlos, I'll see you later," and cut him off before we got into an argument.
After much telephonic counseling from my prayer partner & the guy from Match.com that I've been talking to for several months, I decided not to go through his things. I realized that this wasn't about him this was about me, and I wanted to demonstrate to myself that I'm not the woman I used to be (the one who would feel insecure and need to know what he might be hiding in addition to that awful tape). I wanted to prove to myself that I could stand up to him, show my spine, & just ask for the tape face to face.
When he got home Monday evening he informed me that he had plans for the evening and offered the use of his truck. "That would be great," I replied without commenting that it's common courtesy to let your guest know where you're going when they come to visit you and you leave them at your home. I knew he had class that evening, so I figured he'd be back about 9 after it was over. When 11 PM rolled around and he'd only called to respond to my voice message letting him know that his truck wouldn't start, I took a deep breathe at his attempt to disrespect me. When he came home at midnight and found me asleep on the couch, I didn't bother to ask where he'd been. I cut to the chase and decided it was time for closure.
"So, I didn't go through your things," I started. "I didn't ask you if you went through my things," he snorted. "Well, I want the tape," I started again. "No," he flatly replied. From his insolent tone, I knew that anything else I said would just result in my not achieving my goal of a no drama visit. He confirmed it when he inadvertantly said, "Absolutely not. You can't have the tape."
"My flight leaves at 6 AM," I said, hoping to diffuse the brewing tension. "Why'd you go and get an early flight?" he asked. "I need to go back to work and I don't want to get bumped again," I stated. "Yeah, you could be here all week," he noted, "but you could work from home" he said while thinking out loud. "I want to go home," I replied. "I miss my own house and my own bed. I miss my home," I confirmed.
Shortly thereafter, I packed my things in anticipation of leaving in the morning. I set the alarm on both my personal & business cellphones. I'd be damned if I was going to oversleep again. He crawled into bed and asked me again, "what's wrong with the tape?" "It's just bad, Carlos." "Okay, let's make another one," he asked. "No," I flatly replied. He then asked for other disgusting and unmentionable sex acts to which I unwaveringly replied, "No." "C'mon, we've done everything you wanted, why not?" he asked. "Because somethings only need to be done once," I said.
In the morning as I dressed, I stated again, "Carlos, I really want the tape." "You may as well change the subject," he fumed. I pulled together the rest of my things and we headed off to the airport. On the way there, he asked when my flight arrived. "11," I quietly stated. "Are you going to work today?" he inquired. "Yes. Straight from the airport to work," I said. Then I realized that I'd left my cardigan on the chair in his living room. I asked him if he would send it to me. "Yeah, just email me your address," he coldly replied. "You can send it to either work or home," I replied when I realized I'd never given him my new home address & really wanting to keep it that way. When we got to the airport, he pulled my things out of the truck and said, "We're on much better time that we were yesterday." I knodded as I collected myself. "Bye," he said with even less warmth in his half-hearted hug & cheek kiss goodbye than the day before.
So here I am waiting to board the plane home. He didn't ask me to call him to let him know I got home safely, and I'd be surprised if he bothers to send my cardigan to me. I've had the ultimate closure this weekend, and I'm not interested in looking back.
posted by N'j at 5:27 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home