I found my chin beginning to quiver as I waited for him to reply. He had called this morning around 1:30, after I had exhausted my angsty self with the usual "what if's?" all evening. You know:
What if the sex was horrible for him?
What if he found me completely repulsive? What if he died?
(I was secretly wishing the third option over all the others...ok, that's not so funny.)
Anyway, there was a pause before he said, very simply, very quietly, "I'm sorry."
I closed my eyes and swallowed, trying desperately to get ahold of myself.
"Well, I don't know if you know this about girls like me," I said with false cheer in my voice, "but we get real worried when our fellas sleep with us for the first time and then choose to ignore us completely for the next FOUR days."
"I know."
I was starting to get mad. "You know? That's it? You know? I don't think you do know, Patrick. I don't think you understand how it feels, otherwise you would have called, you would've come over, you would ha-,"
he cut me off, "Elaine, I know. The thing is, I feel like, because of your...recent situation...I've had to step on eggshells around you. You know, make you feel better and stuff. I didn't want to back off because I didn't want you to be more hurt than you already have been."
I simply couldn't believe what I had just heard. I mean, it was like an irritating buzz began in my ears. My face went hot. The shit had, indeed, hit the fan, flung around the room, and landed on top of my head. I instantly started to cry fat tears that seemed to be hurting my tear ducts-they were coming that thick, that fast. And with all of that came the most insane sensation: it felt that he had just torn through me all over again, like he had taken my virginity for the second time.
"So," I managed to say, "You...you fucked me out of pity because my grandpa died? You conjured up the whole Valentine's Day thing and, and you gave me the puppy and all of that because you felt obligated? What the fuck, Patrick? Don't ever say that I forced you to do this. You know I never ASKED FOR ANY OF IT, AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO EVER WORRY BECAUSE I NEVER FUCKING WILL!"
With that I hung up the phone and began to sob. I cried for my grandpa, knowing that normally, when I'm in a crisis, I could call him and complain to him and he'd say, "Lainey, life's a bitch. That's why I smoke cigars and play chess. I love ya." I cried for myself, for trusting somebody so easily, for giving into him because of the stuff he gave and said to me. I cried because all at once I felt so alone, and so dirty and so not at peace with the decisions I had made in the last week.
I cried for what seemed to be all night, but just 45 minutes later, someone rang our doorbell. Alarmed at first but realizing it had to be Patrick, I stayed in my bed, not wanting to give in again. This time I was going to "allow" him to hurt me.
Jen or Warren must've woken up and let him in because the next thing I knew, Patrick was knealing down on the floor beside me with snow all over him.
"Elaine? Elaine, I didn't mean any of what I said. Truthfully, I was scared. Really really scared because...that night...was so great and not what I thought it would be. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
He tried to pull back the blanket that I was hiding my snotty face in. He managed to do so but I covered my face with my hands in time. "Please, Elaine, forgive me babe. Please."
He kissed my hands.
"I don't have the energy to forgive you tonight, or to say anything to you for that matter."
After sitting by my side and stroking my hair as I sniffled and wiped my tears and then finally fell asleep, he must have trekked back home in the snow.
I haven't talked to him since.
Oh, Jen just came in and wants me to tell her the whole story. More later...
*elaine*