Posted by: Marie | January 19, 2009

(2) Please fall in love with me

Post #2
[Private journal entry written Monday, April 30, 2007]

I’m lying in this king-sized hotel bed, hugging the very edge of the mattress, staying as far away as possible from the asshole lying next to me. His breathing is steady and deep – obviously, the ugliness of those last words we spit at each other haven’t affected him one iota.

How did I end up in this lonely, desperate, dark place yet again? I just want one of these men to fall in love with me – is that so much to ask?

I know one thing for sure – I have nothing more to say to him. He is nothing but shit to me. All I have to do is get a little sleep tonight, at least enough to function tomorrow – it might be a very long day. In the morning, I’ll pack my suitcase without speaking a word, get in the truck and pray that he takes me to the airport – and pray that he doesn’t cancel the plane ticket back to Denver before I get on the plane.

This trip had sounded so fun when he proposed it to me – a few days kicking back at the Jazz Festival in New Orleans, then a couple days exploring historical landmarks around Baton Rouge . . . I am basically unemployed, so I have no boss to ask for time off . . . so, sure! I’d be happy to go!

Being mostly unemployed also meant I have very little money to my name.

I don’t want to be a burden. I know there is no way I could ever pay for my half of the trip – and he isn’t asking me to – he can easily afford it. But, my pride requires me to carry as much of my own weight as I can. I cleaned out my bank account just before I left – $140 – and I gave all but $20 of it to him as we settled into the hotel for the first night in the French Quarter. I explained I didn’t want to be a freeloader. I told him to put it towards our expenses. He seemed surprised, maybe even offended, but he accepted it with a “thank you”.

He has always been polite, even respectful – a good Texas gentleman, I guess. At the same time, he has always been distant, non-emotional, detached. I added my own excuses to his: We have to keep it covert because he is wrapping up an ugly divorce – he doesn’t want to give his wife any ammunition. He is a busy man, a worldwide traveling salesman, it is hard for him to break away to call me. He isn’t ready to jump back into another serious relationship so we need to keep it casual.

And now, on this trip, he has become almost cold towards me. He seems to barely tolerate having to talk to me during mealtimes. He was short with me when I didn’t give him the exact information he wanted as we navigated the roads along the coast. In the evenings, he has been very interested in watching TV and drinking plenty of wine – I’m not even sure he is aware I’m in the room.

He has always been sufficiently generous in bed. But, on this trip, he has not been. He wants me to get his rocks off and then he wants to go to sleep. When I complained, he told me he was too tired and that I should take care of myself. After a few nights of that routine, I have come to understand my role on this trip – basically, I am his “pretty woman” for the weekend – but the script is rolling in reverse.

Tonight is the last evening of the trip. I asked where I stand with him. He laid it out clearly – our relationship is only physical, only sexual. He would stop in to see me when his travel schedule allowed. I told him I needed more than that. We agreed that it would be better to end things.

Then, for a resounding finale he said, “What gets me about this whole conversation is that it’s been all about what you want and what you need – I don’t care what you want and what you need, I don’t want to deal with that.”

I didn’t respond – what could there be for me to say? I wanted to throw a huge, dramatic tantrum and walk out right then. But, I have no way to get to the airport – my $20 won’t cover taxi fare and I have no credit card, no other way to pay. Plus, walking out that many hours before the flight departure time would give him time to cancel the plane ticket – I would be stranded in Baton Rouge with no way to get home.

At least, if I stay the night, I will have a warm, soft bed to sleep in, even if I have to share it with an asshole. I can get through this by enduring silently. I guess I’ll just scoot closer to the edge of the bed and begin the process of trying to fall asleep.

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