Jeff has been on my mind a bit lately, and not in a positive way. I’m not sure if he is truly happy with his child-girlfriend or if he is trying to make me jealous. I returned home from Seattle on a Tuesday. On Wednesday evening, Carrie sent a message: “Jeff is coming to Seattle this weekend and asked for cool places to visit. I’m going to see if he wants to get a drink and catch up if that’s okay with you.” Excuse me, WHAT? I begged him for three years to take me to Seattle to see Carrie. He has been with this gal for three months, tops, and he is flying her to MY sanctuary to see MY best friend. I told Carrie that we were all adults and had free will to do what we want. Carrie said they went for coffee because of his lady’s age, but she couldn’t stay long and didn’t get to chat with them long. He still hasn’t said anything about it to me, and I don’t know if he’ll ever bring it up. The twist of the knife came the next week when he brought her to the clinic where I work to make his appointment. Let me say that again: HE BROUGHT HIS GIRLFRIEND TO THE CLINIC WHERE I WORK. I don’t take fellows I’m dating to his place of work. What was he thinking? Of course my co-workers were abuzz about it and, thankfully, I didn’t see him while he was there. He came in on a particularly busy Tuesday afternoon, and it really is luck that we weren’t in the same room at the same time. Anyone who heard about it told me how disrespectful it was for him to act the way he did, but nothing anyone said could ease the pain. I sent him a text the day after I found out, asking him to not bring her to the clinic again and to treat me with a little more respect. He apologized, but it still wounded me and I struggled with my sadness for several days.
I went to lunch with my parents yesterday. They always ask about my dating life. Dad asked about Morgan, and I told them of the events from his birthday weekend. I could tell there was something Dad wanted to say while I was talking, but I was in a frenzy to tell them every last detail. As soon as I paused, he piped up: “would you be interested in meeting someone I work with?” “Why not?” I replied. I’m never opposed to meeting new people. I started asking questions about this mystery work fellow. He’s in his late 20s, does capoeira, and he’s a dark skinned fellow. My mom was ecstatic to learn that last tidbit, as she wants me to marry a black man so that I’ll have what she calls “adorable mixed babies.” The only catch is that he might be dating someone. Come on, Dad! You’re supposed to find these things out! I told him to give the fellow my phone number if he was indeed single, and we’ll go from there.
I confessed my seven year crush on Frank to my friend and co-worker, Sara last night. He works for the retinal physician that satellites our clinic every Tuesday morning. Frank arrived about seven years ago with the retina doc, when I was newly married. Tuesday morning is my time to do surgical paperwork, so I’m usually free to chit-chat as much as I care to, which Frank and I do as long as he isn’t crazy busy. We used to talk about how we both had long commutes and talked about our relationships with our significant others. I know all about his son: how he didn’t learn to drive until last year when he turned 18 and was going off to college. He knew me married, through my divorce, and now as a single lady. The last time we spoke, he was dating a lady from his clinic and I thought they were still together. When we chatted last week, he told me how he was riding his bike and was hit by a car. He broke his right arm, and we joked about how hard it is to wipe your ass with your left hand and pull on your pants one-armed. I asked if he had anyone to help him while all of that was going on, and he said no. His son was off at college and his mom couldn’t help. He made no mention of his, I assume, former girlfriend. This sparked something in me, if only to make my crush a little stronger. He’s 12 years older, but we seem to connect. Our conversations flow like water, and we always have the perfect sarcastic jab for the other. However, I don’t have the balls to ask him out. Number one: I’m worried about rejection. Number two: what if we go out, it doesn’t work out, and we still have to see each other every Tuesday? Number three: what if it works out and we have a wonderful life together? Am I ready for that? Sara tells me to not to pursue him, but rather let him come to me. If he doesn’t, then it’s not meant to be. I’m inclined to agree with her, unless it’s another year and he hasn’t asked me out. I may grow pair in that length of time.
I’m reading a fantastic book right now: You Can Heal Your Heart. The subtitle is Finding Peace After a Breakup, Divorce, or Death. It’s not super long, but it’s very insightful. I highly recommend it to anyone who is having trouble getting over a relationship. I found myself unable to get over Morgan, which was completely ridiculous as we only dated a little over one month. I discovered I was holding onto feelings from old relationships that I had never truly let go. It is full of positive affirmations and teaches self-love. Last night, I posted the words, “The Universe sends me the perfect people for the perfect lessons” on my dresser mirror. On the bathroom mirror, “I love and accept myself. I am worth it.” On another mirror in my room, “Happiness is my destiny.” I already feel worlds better, and it can only go up from here.