…reason
So it’s last Thursday and I was fretting. I was a mess.
Not a word from MR, and I was looking at my phone every five seconds. My mind wasn’t on my job, and my COWORKERS were very aware.
I was going out for ‘coffee’ (read ‘cigarette’) every thirty minutes. My hands were shaking. I’m not generally a very impulsive person and every time I think of the argument between me and the man I truly adore I was breaking out in a hot flush. The argument with MR has shaken me so badly. It surprised me. We’ve managed to survive an entire relationship without a major bust up and now one crept upon us out of the blue. I don’t think I was paying any attention to the world around me. I got my coat stuck in the elevator. I spilled my coffee down my nice white Karen Millen blouse. I left the hotel room without my key. I got in a cab without my bag (kerb side - had to go back to collect it). Little Missy Absent Minded.
I couldn’t BELIEVE I said yes to dinner with D&G.
But I did. I took out my phone to cancel the date. What had I been thinking? I was my tenth cigarette break of the morning and I smelled like KACK, and outside in the cold holding the cell in my shaking hand amongst the rest of THE DAMNED shuddering under the eaves. And then there he is, drifting past me in a wave of intoxicating Dolce & Gobana scent. I didn’t know he was going to be here today. I’m destroyed. And what do I do?
Options were the following:
1) Ignore him and send the text to cancel dinner, because I’m in love with a wonderful man who despite our argument is beyond fabulous and will no doubt call me later, or turn up outside my hotel room so we can have mind bending make-up sex.
2) Smile nonchalantly, don’t text and decide last minute tomorrow whether I will do him the favour of showing up or not.
3) Run on him and sex his face off outside the office building, it will mean nothing, it will be raw and goddamn dirty…and then I can get it out of my system and go back to being in love.
4) Denial. Good old fashion denial. What argument? What lust? Everything is just fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine.
Reason would point me in the direction of one of the above.
But reason had abandoned me. I am Reason’s Dumpster Baby.
I waved back LIKE AN IDIOT.
And what did this heavenly man do? He smiled with confidence, a knowing nod of his head and wafted inside the building. His blonde hair all ruffled and tousled in a way I wanted to chew! And those eyes…regret meant nothing for a minute. My cell in my hand was something to squeeze in place of his thighs. MR who? What IS it about this man that makes me act like a teenager? I’m a strong woman. I intimidate people, it’s what I do. I don’t do it on purpose, it just happens. I’m the Addams family (yes I still had that song in my head). I am as cold as stone and the only person who has ever been able to get blood out of me is MR. He is the one that I am meant to go wibbly for. He is the one who I committed to. Mr Right. The One. The Yin to my Blah. Yet I spend the next ten minutes swearing and playing with my hair the adrenaline in my glands swooning.
I smoked the last three cigarettes in my pocket and clutched at my cell as if it wass a grenade I needed to keep hold of to stop blowing me to KINGDOMCOME…I’m begging the Shoe Gods to send me a sign. A blessed sign to tell me I shouldn’t feel this way.
And then it rang. My phone in my hand started trilling like a crazy thing. My fellow Damned in the shade of the building give me evils, apparently I missed the memo that suggested we needed to smoke in silence. I don’t even contemplate apologising and answer the call.
