Trust In God
I got an unexpected phone call from the SJA today. He was in Chicago this weekend (he's working at corporate temporarily in preparation for his next move) and wanted to know if I wanted to join him for dinner. I called him back and asked, "Where? When?" He said "Tonight in STL," and I did everything I could to not say, "What a jack@$$! To think that I'd drop everything to drive 10 hours round trip on a Sunday evening just to have dinner with him...well, he is an SJA." Instead I said, "I have to work tomorrow, but if you want to stop by here that would be fine." He asked how far it is from Chicago to [insert small town in IA here] and I told him it's about 3 hours. He said he'd call me back.
When I hung up the phone, I thought of how much his suggestion just screamed out how selfish he is. Then I thought he might be testing me again, to see if I was still as needy, gullible, and desperate as I used to act. I didn't really expect his reply. He called me back and said he was on his way. The whole time I was waiting for him, I thought he'd call me back and say he'd changed his mind and wasn't going to come. When his number popped up on the caller ID an hour after we'd last spoken, I was sure he was going to say he'd visit another time. "What's your address?" he asked. I told him and heard him punch it into the GPS. "Alright, I'll be there in 2 hours," he said.
"Huh," I thought to myself. "He's actually going to come here," I thought with mild disbelief. I was pretty sure he had sex on his mind as dessert after dinner. At first I wasn't sure I'd be able to resist all the old feelings I had for him that seeing him might trigger from the memories of our years of sexual interaction. But I decided I would trust God the way I did in Rome and made up my mind that wasn't going to happen. If there was anything that left me feeling that way, it was the conversation I'd had with TRS earlier in the day.
He'd called to check on me and remind me that he's really looking forward to seeing me next weekend. "It's good to hear your voice," he said. "It's good to hear yours too," I gushed. I asked him what he'd done this weekend and he shared that he spent the weekend with his father and step-mother. While he was there, his first wife had come to visit with her daughter. I thought that interesting but was even more pleased when TRS freely shared that his ex has kept in touch with his step-mother over the years. "It was weird for me though," he openly expressed, "seeing her again with her daughter who looks so much like her."
Somehow we got to talking about children and our mutual friend (my "boyfriend" from college) who's now expecting his first child with his current wife. TRS reiterated that he really wants children and that he always has. I shared that I knew in the delivery room when my son was born that I didn't want any more of my ex's children...reasons I've been so conservative and selective when it comes to sexual partners (for the most part). I then told him that even though the Cuban & I dated for a month, we never even kissed. He was very surprised and asked why.
"Because I like to take things very slowly. Once you bring sex into the equation it changes everything, so it's better to take it slow. Since I've been doing this abstinence thing, I want the next person I'm with to be someone special."
Although the SJA is "special" in his own way, he's no longer special enough for me to share my body with him, and I made that clear when he visited this evening. After dinner (which was filled with conversation about business and techno gadgets), I needed to stop by the local Kenyan's apt to pick up some Kenyan art for a presentation I'm giving at work on Thursday. The SJA sat in the car while I went to collect the items. When I realized I had more than I could carry, the Kenyan offered to help me carry them out. This made for an interesting exchange that could easily rival any testosterone exchange broadcast on the Discovery Channel.
On our way to the car, the Kenyan and I talked about our activities after the Kenya party. We were laughing and smiling as we reminisced on how the event reminded each of us of our childhoods while we approached the car. I opened the rear passenger door and started putting the items on the seat when I remembered my manners. "[SJA], [Kenyan]. [Kenyan], [SJA]. [SJA] and I used to work together in Louisiana." They superficially greeted each other and the Kenyan immediately started asking questions after the SJA unconciously said, "Oh, artwork," indicating that he was wondering what I needed to pick up.
"So, you two used to work together in Louisiana, and you drove up from Missouri?" the Kenyan asked, indicating that he'd already checked out the plates on the car the SJA was driving to see if he was local competition. "Yeah," the SJA replied. Without leaving the SJA a chance to get a word in edgewise, the Kenyan asked, "isn't that where corporate headquarters are?" "Yeah," the SJA replied. I cut them both off before either one asked me about the other's significance to me and said, "Ok [Kenyan], I'll see you on Thursday for the presentation." On the way back to my house, I half-heartedly explained that I'd met the Kenyan through my Kenyan neighbors from across the street.
"And where does he work?" the SJA inquired. I told him and sat silent, knowing I didn't need to offer any more information. "What does he do?" he probed. "He's a chemical engineer," I curtly replied.
When we got back to my place, we sat on the back patio enjoying beverages and watching the sun go down, much like we used to when I lived in NO. The air was colored with the last rays of daylight and filled with long, awkward breaks of silence. He glanced at me from time to time, seeming to take in my beauty without staring. I stared off into the sunset thinking, "If there's anyone I wish were here with me right now watching the sun set, it's TRS. And I'm soooo looking forward to watching the sun set with him next week."
After about 30 minutes the SJA announced he needed to get on the road. "Ok," I said nonchalantly. I made my way into the house with the SJA behind me. "Is that your room?" he asked like a teenage boy wondering where I now sleep in my new home after having moved away. "No, that's the loft," I casually replied. "I'll show you the house," I said to satisfy his curiosity. After a brief tour of the second floor, I showed him the basement which houses the 42" flat screen he'd repeatedly told me I needed when he'd visit my home in NO on Sunday nights to watch t.v. after his basketball games.
On our way up the stairs I said, "I'll show you my bedroom, but don't go staring at my underwear because I didn't clean up." As he took a quick glance at my unmade bed, I quickly redirected him to the living room. "Where's your old stuff? You know, the furniture you had in your bedroom before?" he inquired. "It's upstairs in the guest room," I replied while neglecting to explain that I'd bought a new bedroom furniture set when I moved here because I didn't want any memories of him while I slept. "Well, why don't you sleep upstairs in that bed?" "Because I don't want to share a bathroom with Shorty," I quickly replied. There's only one bathroom on the second floor, and the bedroom where I sleep has a private bath on the first floor. "Well, he's not here right now, why don't you sleep in that room?" he probed again. "Well, it's cooler downstairs in the summer," I said. "Heat rises," he said to himself. "Yup, but never mind that I wanted a fresh start when I moved here, and that didn't include the heat of NO rising into my bedroom here in IA," I thought to myself.
He then lingered a while in the living room, fidgiting a bit, pacing back and forth, obviously not sure of what to do next. "I don't want to drive," he announced. "You could take the jet," I sarcastically said. "Anyone can book it," I added, "you just have to have a good reason." "The company jet?" he said. "I mean now. I've been driving all day and I just don't want to drive down to corporate." "Well, some folks from here will leave at 3 a.m. and drive down. Of course, they're sleeping in their own beds," I said without invitation to stay in my home. "Yeah, but I still have to check into the hotel," he added. "Hmm, that's true," I agreed. He shuffled his feet back and forth for a little while longer. "So what are you going to do?" I inquired. "I'm just trying to wrap my mind around the drive," he said.
I then turned on my stereo and started shuffling through the cds in my disc player as I began pulling cds out of my collection. I made a casual comment about wanting to put all the cds I already own into my mp3 player, but it was a daunting task that could wait until winter when I'm bored & have nothing better to do. Cassandra Wilson's FULL MOON DAUGHTER came on (a cd we used to make love to) and he decided it was time to leave.
"Well, I better get on the road," he announced again. "Ok," I said as I turned my attention back to him from organizing my cds. "You can't say I never came to visit & hang out," he professed. "That's true," I said and escorted him to the door where he stopped and extended his arms for a hug. "It was good seeing you," he said. "Sure," I replied as I gave him a generic and limited contact hug. I quickly pulled away, unlocked the front door, and opened it as I backed away for him to leave. "Drive safely," I said as he exited.
When I closed and locked the door, I felt the broadest smile form on my face. I'm sure if someone were there to see it, they wouldn't be sure if the light in the room was from the lingering daylight of the sun or the happiness that shone on my face. "It's over," I felt in my soul as it reverberated to the sound of "Love Is Blindness".
I'm clear now. The Norwegian opened my eyes. I am no longer blind. I no longer love the SJA. And all it took was two nights in Rome, 2 1/2 years, moving 1000 miles away, and trust in God.
When I hung up the phone, I thought of how much his suggestion just screamed out how selfish he is. Then I thought he might be testing me again, to see if I was still as needy, gullible, and desperate as I used to act. I didn't really expect his reply. He called me back and said he was on his way. The whole time I was waiting for him, I thought he'd call me back and say he'd changed his mind and wasn't going to come. When his number popped up on the caller ID an hour after we'd last spoken, I was sure he was going to say he'd visit another time. "What's your address?" he asked. I told him and heard him punch it into the GPS. "Alright, I'll be there in 2 hours," he said.
"Huh," I thought to myself. "He's actually going to come here," I thought with mild disbelief. I was pretty sure he had sex on his mind as dessert after dinner. At first I wasn't sure I'd be able to resist all the old feelings I had for him that seeing him might trigger from the memories of our years of sexual interaction. But I decided I would trust God the way I did in Rome and made up my mind that wasn't going to happen. If there was anything that left me feeling that way, it was the conversation I'd had with TRS earlier in the day.
He'd called to check on me and remind me that he's really looking forward to seeing me next weekend. "It's good to hear your voice," he said. "It's good to hear yours too," I gushed. I asked him what he'd done this weekend and he shared that he spent the weekend with his father and step-mother. While he was there, his first wife had come to visit with her daughter. I thought that interesting but was even more pleased when TRS freely shared that his ex has kept in touch with his step-mother over the years. "It was weird for me though," he openly expressed, "seeing her again with her daughter who looks so much like her."
Somehow we got to talking about children and our mutual friend (my "boyfriend" from college) who's now expecting his first child with his current wife. TRS reiterated that he really wants children and that he always has. I shared that I knew in the delivery room when my son was born that I didn't want any more of my ex's children...reasons I've been so conservative and selective when it comes to sexual partners (for the most part). I then told him that even though the Cuban & I dated for a month, we never even kissed. He was very surprised and asked why.
"Because I like to take things very slowly. Once you bring sex into the equation it changes everything, so it's better to take it slow. Since I've been doing this abstinence thing, I want the next person I'm with to be someone special."
Although the SJA is "special" in his own way, he's no longer special enough for me to share my body with him, and I made that clear when he visited this evening. After dinner (which was filled with conversation about business and techno gadgets), I needed to stop by the local Kenyan's apt to pick up some Kenyan art for a presentation I'm giving at work on Thursday. The SJA sat in the car while I went to collect the items. When I realized I had more than I could carry, the Kenyan offered to help me carry them out. This made for an interesting exchange that could easily rival any testosterone exchange broadcast on the Discovery Channel.
On our way to the car, the Kenyan and I talked about our activities after the Kenya party. We were laughing and smiling as we reminisced on how the event reminded each of us of our childhoods while we approached the car. I opened the rear passenger door and started putting the items on the seat when I remembered my manners. "[SJA], [Kenyan]. [Kenyan], [SJA]. [SJA] and I used to work together in Louisiana." They superficially greeted each other and the Kenyan immediately started asking questions after the SJA unconciously said, "Oh, artwork," indicating that he was wondering what I needed to pick up.
"So, you two used to work together in Louisiana, and you drove up from Missouri?" the Kenyan asked, indicating that he'd already checked out the plates on the car the SJA was driving to see if he was local competition. "Yeah," the SJA replied. Without leaving the SJA a chance to get a word in edgewise, the Kenyan asked, "isn't that where corporate headquarters are?" "Yeah," the SJA replied. I cut them both off before either one asked me about the other's significance to me and said, "Ok [Kenyan], I'll see you on Thursday for the presentation." On the way back to my house, I half-heartedly explained that I'd met the Kenyan through my Kenyan neighbors from across the street.
"And where does he work?" the SJA inquired. I told him and sat silent, knowing I didn't need to offer any more information. "What does he do?" he probed. "He's a chemical engineer," I curtly replied.
When we got back to my place, we sat on the back patio enjoying beverages and watching the sun go down, much like we used to when I lived in NO. The air was colored with the last rays of daylight and filled with long, awkward breaks of silence. He glanced at me from time to time, seeming to take in my beauty without staring. I stared off into the sunset thinking, "If there's anyone I wish were here with me right now watching the sun set, it's TRS. And I'm soooo looking forward to watching the sun set with him next week."
After about 30 minutes the SJA announced he needed to get on the road. "Ok," I said nonchalantly. I made my way into the house with the SJA behind me. "Is that your room?" he asked like a teenage boy wondering where I now sleep in my new home after having moved away. "No, that's the loft," I casually replied. "I'll show you the house," I said to satisfy his curiosity. After a brief tour of the second floor, I showed him the basement which houses the 42" flat screen he'd repeatedly told me I needed when he'd visit my home in NO on Sunday nights to watch t.v. after his basketball games.
On our way up the stairs I said, "I'll show you my bedroom, but don't go staring at my underwear because I didn't clean up." As he took a quick glance at my unmade bed, I quickly redirected him to the living room. "Where's your old stuff? You know, the furniture you had in your bedroom before?" he inquired. "It's upstairs in the guest room," I replied while neglecting to explain that I'd bought a new bedroom furniture set when I moved here because I didn't want any memories of him while I slept. "Well, why don't you sleep upstairs in that bed?" "Because I don't want to share a bathroom with Shorty," I quickly replied. There's only one bathroom on the second floor, and the bedroom where I sleep has a private bath on the first floor. "Well, he's not here right now, why don't you sleep in that room?" he probed again. "Well, it's cooler downstairs in the summer," I said. "Heat rises," he said to himself. "Yup, but never mind that I wanted a fresh start when I moved here, and that didn't include the heat of NO rising into my bedroom here in IA," I thought to myself.
He then lingered a while in the living room, fidgiting a bit, pacing back and forth, obviously not sure of what to do next. "I don't want to drive," he announced. "You could take the jet," I sarcastically said. "Anyone can book it," I added, "you just have to have a good reason." "The company jet?" he said. "I mean now. I've been driving all day and I just don't want to drive down to corporate." "Well, some folks from here will leave at 3 a.m. and drive down. Of course, they're sleeping in their own beds," I said without invitation to stay in my home. "Yeah, but I still have to check into the hotel," he added. "Hmm, that's true," I agreed. He shuffled his feet back and forth for a little while longer. "So what are you going to do?" I inquired. "I'm just trying to wrap my mind around the drive," he said.
I then turned on my stereo and started shuffling through the cds in my disc player as I began pulling cds out of my collection. I made a casual comment about wanting to put all the cds I already own into my mp3 player, but it was a daunting task that could wait until winter when I'm bored & have nothing better to do. Cassandra Wilson's FULL MOON DAUGHTER came on (a cd we used to make love to) and he decided it was time to leave.
"Well, I better get on the road," he announced again. "Ok," I said as I turned my attention back to him from organizing my cds. "You can't say I never came to visit & hang out," he professed. "That's true," I said and escorted him to the door where he stopped and extended his arms for a hug. "It was good seeing you," he said. "Sure," I replied as I gave him a generic and limited contact hug. I quickly pulled away, unlocked the front door, and opened it as I backed away for him to leave. "Drive safely," I said as he exited.
When I closed and locked the door, I felt the broadest smile form on my face. I'm sure if someone were there to see it, they wouldn't be sure if the light in the room was from the lingering daylight of the sun or the happiness that shone on my face. "It's over," I felt in my soul as it reverberated to the sound of "Love Is Blindness".
I'm clear now. The Norwegian opened my eyes. I am no longer blind. I no longer love the SJA. And all it took was two nights in Rome, 2 1/2 years, moving 1000 miles away, and trust in God.
posted by N'j at 8:35 PM
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