Unintentionally.
I haven't really been talking about him.
He's just been creeping into my thoughts.
It's weird not telling him about my life.
The last thing he said to me was that he didn't want to climb with me and he wasn't going to see my show.
I started climbing because of him.
He's actually the reason I climbed the 60' wall when I did.
He coerced me into trying it and then had Puppet film it because he knew I could do it even when I didn't.
The same day Sheldon told me he wasn't going to see my show The Phantom of the Opera texted to say he would go.
I would say that's the plot twist of the year.
I've known The Phantom for three months and I've known Sheldon three years.
I thought if one of them was going to come through for me it was going to be the man I had real history with.
But people often surprise me.
And sometimes not in a good way.
It's only been a few weeks but I feel like there is so much I want to tell Sheldon.
About my date with the Dom last week.
About The Phantom calling me.
About topping out at the climbing gym.
About rehearsal starting.
About Cartier turning two.
And how I couldn't find that picture where he was holding Cartier as a kitten when they first met.
Sheldon had a beard then.
A lot was different then.
But what really made me miss Sheldon was what happened with The Phantom.
I'm crazy.
If that wasn't already wildly evident.
I'm a fucking LOON.
(But in the most charming and adorable way. Obviously.)
Most of the time my nutbar alter ego stays locked up in the basement and doesn't misbehave.
But occasionally when provoked or when made all the better after guzzling my weight in Jameson, the wackadoo that is Reese, climbs from the depths of the basement to throw her head back and wail at the moon.
Or at the man whose had the insane urge to call her.
I don't really know what came over me.
Sexual frustration coupled with wounded pride.
My ego decided to violently lash out at the perfect penis that just wanted to be my "friend."
I told him to delete me and leave me alone.
I was tired of feeling rejected by him.
We hadn't spent any time together the past two months.
And the month before that we only hung out once.
That's a lot of time to pass with no kisses, no time together, no physical connection whatsoever.
And yet within those three months he'd rejected me re-PEA-te-dly.
Wanting to be with me.
Not wanting to be with me.
Wanting to see me.
Then not contacting me for weeks.
So even though everything he had called to tell me was lovely and perfect and everything I could have dreamed of hearing, the fact it was wrapped in a physical rejection, when I'm a VERY amorous woman, made swallowing the sweetness of his compliments have the bitter aftertaste of drinking acid.
And suddenly the only thing I felt was
He doesn't WANT me.
I was mad.
I was still mad at him for all the shit he'd put me through.
I wanted to have hot angry sex so I could forgive him for not making my body a priority.
I didn't want to sip chai in the rose garden and talk about my feeeelings.
Shut up and fucking show me what I mean to you with your BODY, for fucks sake you god of all that is naked!!
But that wasn't going to happen.
So I told him to leave me be.
And to my drunk astonishment my phone rang.
I stared at it confused.
"Hello?" I answered angrily.
'I was on my BIKE. I'm sorry I didn't text you BACK right away. I've been working since TEN,' he said almost as angry as me.
"Yeah. SO?" I replied with the petulance of a toddler.
'Are you just drunk and being dramatic? What's going on?'
I was quiet for a moment.
"Maaaaaaaaaybeeeee."
T I M E O U T.
I'd hung out with this kid a total of maybe two weeks in three months and he understood me well enough to know I was just being a melodramatic diva and didn't mean my outburst?
And can we also acknowledge the fact that I was being a raging monkey and he chose to CALL me??!
I don't think with any of the fights Sheldon and I have had over the years did he EVER actually call me.
So.
Yeah.
We talked it out.
I got it out.
That's why me being so expressive is good for me.
Once I let it out its done and I can move on.
So I can be his friend now.
Any man who calls me in response to me telling him to delete me is a true blue friend for life.
And I will forever love him for that.
(Even if I'm a little pissed at his penis for the moment.)
So why did all that make me miss Sheldon?
Because when Sheldon and I had first started dating years ago I'd turned into a raging monkey.
Though that time it was even worse because I actually showed up at his apartment ranting about how he was gonna lose me, how I'd gone out with someone else.
(Let's just say jealousy makes me crazy. Bat shit crazy crazy. I'm a possessive bitch. Don't fuck with me.)
And do you know what Sheldon did?
He ignored the angry monkey stamping her feet in front of him and just asked, "Do you want some hot chocolate? I have some drinking chocolate I think you would like. Let me make you some."
And he went into the kitchen to make it for me and I'm pretty sure I stood there confused, mouth agape for like, way too long.
That wasn't the reaction I was expecting.
I fell asleep on the couch shortly thereafter the way a child falls asleep after crying and throwing a fit and Sheldon brought the only blanket he had and put it around me and gently lifted my head and put his only pillow under my head.
And I remember thinking, I love you too.
There have been very few men in my life who've witnessed my inner wackadoo and still wanted me in their life.
The few who have?
Are treasures I want to hold onto dearly.
I was really thankful The Phantom still wanted my cuckachoo self in his life.
But I was really sad Sheldon didn't.
It was a weird joyful sadness coating my heart.
So happy.
And sad too.
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