Fantasy

So I make it into work by 5.30a for this stupid convention. The convention itself isn't stupid but the concept of a breakfast for thousands of people at 6.30a is. I hate morning people. But I managed to pull it together and put on my happy face for the client and get the doors open.

Since I was in so goddamn early and am basically worthless until at least 9.00a I spent my morning tying up some loose ends at work and tweeting. Twitter and boredom for me is a bad combo. I just tweet incessant inane things. It's like my form of mindless entertainment. 

Work was going along smoothly. Enough so that I felt comfortable leaving property to feed the boss & Trubes. We head to our spot, Metro Pizza. Terri the waitress always takes great care of us. We're there probably 2-3 times a week, minimum. Finishing up our lunch and my phone rings. I don't recognize the number but since I'm off campus with a live convention back at the ranch I pick it up.

"Hi. How are you?" he asks. "It's (Counselor)." Yeah, I know. I get a physiological reaction at the sound of his voice. I can't help it. It's like a cross between losing my breath and acid reflux. "I haven't talked to you in awhile," he states the obvious. I want so badly to be a bitch but I can't. "You sound like you're at a convention," he says. "You've got IBM?" I tell him, "Actually, I'm at Metro." How did he know I had IBM today? We make another 30 seconds or so of small talk and I tell him I'll call him later. 

Here's what I don't understand. Why is he calling me? He doesn't love me, he knows we can't be "friends" so why the hell is he checking in on me. Is this his way of winning? Of shoving it in my face? Of proving that, yeah, I don't want you but I'm gonna keep torturing you every once in awhile, remind you that I'm still here. Or the girl-part of me thinks maybe he does still care, that a part of him does love me. Maybe he's come to his senses and realized that I'm the best thing that's ever happened to him. Pure Fantasy. Yes, I know it's up to me to grow up and move on, despite his actions, but it's hard. I don't mind hard. I guess what I'm asking is why is it so circuitous?

I never did call him back. I don't plan on it. But Christ I wanted to; I still want to. Tomorrow I head to LA with the gang to check out the Pac 12 Tourney. We're bidding on it for 2013 so we're doing a little recon. Staying @ the Ritz Carlton downtown. Since I'm not drinking at the moment I plan on ordering my weight in room service. Hell, I may even take a long hot bath. A mini-vacay. Help clear my head, heal my heart. Man, if the Ritz can do that, I may just pull a Howard Hughes and move in.