It’s always slightly confusing and painful when someone does a sudden 180. All the signs are pointing one way, you’ve just got used to the direction, and then, without warning, you’re expected to turn around and pretend that the new way was the one you were heading for all along.
And so it has been this weekend. We met at the airport, he came through the gate looking a little shy, a little unsure. I hugged him and hurried him away. The evening was spent catching up, eating, drinking, kissing.
The next morning we bought breakfast and sat down by the lake, watching the mountains, sitting in a comfortable silence, watching the world pass us by. We met my friends. He charmed them in his quiet, polite, English way. They fell for him a little. I fell for him a little.
We collapsed back into the house at around 1 in the morning. A little giggly (or, in my case, a lot giggly). We fooled around a little, a little kissing, not much more. He turned to me and said “I’m sorry, I don’t like you.” He got up, he left.
I lay there not entirely sure what had just happened. Only knowing that here was a guy who, despite playing one game all weekend, had now changed the rules.
And so we reach this morning. We’re screamingly polite to each other and yet I can’t help but sit here feeling hurt, a little used and more than a little confused.
He’s just sat down next to me and said “I’m sorry about how last night ended.” I brushed it off. I don’t know what to say.
Yet again, even without trying or knowing how, I’ve managed to mess things up.
Happy weekend y’all.