by Sweet, Izzy
It just doesn’t make any sense. Somehow I get my butt out of bed and zombie walk to the kitchen for some coffee. I’m hurt, but I still don’t understand how this happened. It doesn’t process.
How, after all this time, after all we’ve shared together could AJ stand me up? I would have never thought him capable of it.
He came after me. I was not interested in a serious relationship two months ago when we first started chatting.
I was just lonely when I signed up for the free local dating site, Shoot Me Cupid. I didn’t expect to get much out of it. The majority of my friends have gone off to college. The one or two who have stuck around like me are usually busy with their kids.
I signed up on Shoot Me Cupid with the clear status, bolded and everything, that I was only seeking friends. Of course, creep after creep were hitting me up, looking for casual sex.
And there were dick pics. Disgusting, eye-searing images that will forever scar me. I shudder just thinking about them.
For the most part, the site was a bust. After a while, I only checked my messages once a month.
I missed AJ’s first private message by two weeks. In fact, I remember quite vividly that I was afraid to open his message. It was like: Please don’t be a dick pic, please. Please, oh, please I don’t want to see your two inches of dangling fury!
I also remember quite vividly what his message said.
AJ: Hey beautiful. Are you interested in a serious relationship yet?
At first I thought perhaps he had accidently sent me that message. It must have been for someone else. I’d never been called beautiful before. He couldn’t be referring to me. Yet…
I checked out his profile. He was very good looking. I mean like heart-stopping, mouthwatering, how you doin’ baby? Bright white smile. Darling dimples. Warm chocolate eyes that smoldered me even through the glare of my phone screen.
There was picture after picture of him doing fun things. Hanging out with friends. Traveling and enjoying life. He was definitely one of the popular guys in high school who grew into a handsome man with the world at his feet.
The more I checked out his profile, the more confused I became. What was a guy like him doing on a free dating website? Why was he reaching out to me? I’m not ugly by any means, but I’m not the hottest gal around either. He was way out of my league. I always believed that that kind of guy only dated supermodels or cheerleaders, not average girl next door types like me.
I nearly chewed through my lip while I mulled over responding to him. All the signs pointed to it being a mistake. My gut told me it was a mistake. But there was a slim, irrational chance he was interested in little ol’ me.
What did I have to lose? With the computer between us, I could protect my dignity. What was the worst that could happen? I talked myself into it.
Me: Not yet. Check back in a week.
I checked my messages every five minutes that night. He didn’t answer back.
The next day, I checked every hour. Then, it became whenever I was bored the rest of the week.
I was almost convinced he was never going to respond. One exact week passed. It must be as I originally expected, a mistake. Still, I kept checking every day.
Two days later he finally sent me another private message.
AJ: How about now? It’s been a week.
The coffee is ready for me. I program the maker to brew a fresh pot every morning. I dump in a few teaspoons of sugar for an extra boost. My blood sugar needs it. No breakfast for me this morning, I’m too depressed to eat.
AJ and I hit it off right away. It was too weird how much he had in common. It was too perfect. We shared the same favorite band, the same favorite TV shows, books, and movies. We both love cats and only tolerate dogs. One day we both want to have big families, with lots of love and lots of kids.
It was surreal how alike we were, how much he had in common. We both had parents who divorced and remarried. Our stepparents are total jerks. Rich jerks used to bossing people around and getting their way. He doesn’t get along with his stepbrother, I don’t get along with mine. It was so impossible how much we had in common, so unbelievable that it became believable.
There was no way he could have guessed all that stuff about me. I don’t keep a diary or journal. My social media posts are mostly pictures of cute cats doing silly things. I once knew a girl in high school who had some very intimate pictures leaked all over the web. She became a social pariah, a cautionary tale to the rest of us. The internet is not safe and there are millions of strangers who want to see our boobies.
I guard my privacy. If you want to get to know me, you have to actually get to know me. Unless he was a CSA spy or a psychic, there was no way he could know or just guess all those things we shared together.
Up until yesterday, I believed there was only one explanation for it. We were meant to be.
It’s funny how being told how beautiful you are every day can affect your mood and personality.
I drain my cup of coffee, the last sip is too sweet. Then I shuffle to my bathroom to put some makeup on.
Looking in the mirror, I brush my hair out of me face. Am I still beautiful? Even without AJ telling me? Was it all a lie?
I look tired, but I don’t have enough energy to put on a full face. I rub some foundation over my face and brush on some mascara. My goal is simply not to scare the innocent people that have to ride the bus with me. It takes more effort than it should to do even this.
I should have known. All the signs were there. I feel so stupid.
AJ reached out to me, he showed interest in me. He got me to like him, but he never wanted to meet in person. He was always too busy, and from his pictures I understood. Yet why give me the impression he wanted a relationship if he could never find the time for a day?
After the first couple of tries of attempting to meet up with him I gave up. I figured he’d ask me out when he found the time. He eventually found it.
I almost break down on the bus. I have to close my eyes and breathe in deeply. I will not cry in public, dammit. I will not cry.
I have to stop thinking about it because the more I think about it, the more I analyze it. The more I analyze it, the more I pick it apart, and the more and more I feel really stupid.
I fell in love with someone who wasn’t real. I opened up to him. Told him things I’d never told anyone else. Shared with him my innermost, most private secrets. And he wasn’t real.
FML
If AJ was real, he would have waited at the restaurant. He would have texted me back. He would have called me.
But AJ was just a fantasy. An idea of what I wanted. A manifestation of what I thought I needed.
And I’m just a fucking idiot.
***
Work should be hard, but it’s actually just the distraction I need. I focus on the files, on the names, and leave my phone and thoughts of AJ in my purse on my desk.
It’s mind-numbing work, exactly what my mind is needing. The office buzzes around me with activity. When I file, I become part of the background, blending in with the scenery. The others that work in the office just walk on past, ignoring me as I work through the cabinets, treating me as if I don’t exist. That’s how I like it. Today especially.
I fall into a rhythm of where I’m going without actually thinking about what I’m doing. I find my Zen. I’m actually disappointed when I reach the end of the stack. I wish there was more. After locking up the cabinets, I turn and walk back to my office.
I’m putting on my jacket, getting ready to leave when I check my phone out of pure habit. I have one new message.
Chapter Four
AJ: Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday but I can explain. Please don’t hate me.
The phone shakes in my hand. No, wait, it’s my hand that is doing the shaking.
He’s sorry? He can explain? All the emotions I filed away while I was working come bubbling back to the surface. Confusion, anger, and the worst of them all, hope. I try to squash
that hope. I need to stomp it out permanently, but it’s clingy, it won’t go away. Hope right now is my biggest enemy.
I just spent my day feeling depressed and stupid. Why do I want to text him back right away, hoping it had all been one great big misunderstanding?
I guess I rather believe I’m not stupid, that all that invested time and emotion was not for nothing. I know I’m acting a fool. I’m becoming living proof of that saying: Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
I just can’t help myself, I’m too damn weak. I shoot him a text back.
Me: I’m leaving work. Let me have it.
AJ: Call me.
I rushed home to call him. I wasn’t even aware of what I was doing. It was all muscle memory.
Now that I can call him, I’m afraid. I have to do it, though, I have to know. If I don’t like the answer maybe the why of it can give me closure.
I close my eyes. From the way I’m feeling, the way I’m breathing, the way I’m acting, you’d think I was getting ready to dive off a building or something. My finger makes the push. My phone is ringing.
His husky voice greets me, “Hello, beautiful.”
Just like that AJ makes me weak. He has that kind of power over me.
“Hello,” I exhale.
There is a long minute of silence. I walk over to my couch and sit down. I pull my knees up to me chest and hug them.
I think he’s waiting for me to say something else. I’m not going to make this easy on him. The silence continues. I hear him breathing. In my apartment, the only sound is my refrigerator humming.
Finally he says, “Hailey, I’m very sorry.”
It hurts. The betrayal, being stood up, acknowledging it.
“Why?”
Why did you stand me up? Why did you betray me? Why did you make me have feelings?
“I freaked out.”
“You freaked out?” I’m incredulous.
There’s another moment of silence.
“Yes.” He takes a deep breath. So far he sounds sincere. Then he says, “I was afraid you wouldn’t like me.”
“Seriously?”
How could I not like him? He’s beautiful. He’s perfect. He has everything going for him. I was afraid he wouldn’t like me. I’m not the prettiest or the skinniest. I was the one who was freaked out, but I still showed up.
“I waited for two hours.”
It was humiliating. The look of pity in the waitress’ eyes when she had to ask me to leave…
“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”
Well, that took the breath right out of me.
“You are the woman of my dreams. My ultimate fantasy.” His voice grows deeper, huskier as he continues. It does funny, flippy things to my tummy. “I have never wanted someone, anyone the way I want you. It scares the shit out of me.”
I was so not expecting that. I don’t know what to say. I try to find words to speak. Words fail me.
He goes on, “Hailey, one more chance. I was a dick. I stood you up and you don’t deserve that. I want to punch myself in the face for doing it. I’m begging you, please.”
“You don’t have to beg,” I say softly.
Maybe I’m a sucker but right now I’d bet my life he’s being honest with me.
I could relate. I had been freaked out about meeting him. Freaked out about him being too good to be true. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I want him so bad it’s no longer a want, it’s becoming a need.
I can understand being scared shitless about all of it. I can forgive him, this once.
“God, I love you,” he says, sounding relieved. “Where are you?”
“Home, on my couch,” I answer without giving it much thought.
“Can I come over?”
“What? Now?”
“Yes, to make it up to you.”
“How are you going to make it up to me?”
He chuckles again. I don’t know what it is about that deep laugh but I’m quivering in places I don’t normally quiver.
“How do you want me to make it up to you?”
I laugh nervously. Whoa. I know what he’s implying, but I’m not that great at flirting. I haven’t had much practice.
He gets the hint, I think and backs off. There’s another moment of silence. It feels so good to talk to him again. To feel as if I’m not alone in the world. Someone cares about me.
“I want to see you.”
“When?” I ask nervously, hoping he’s changed his mind and doesn’t mean immediately.
“Now. I feel like a fool. I need to see you, to have you in my arms…”
I can’t do it. I just can’t. I don’t want to meet him looking like this. I need a shower, a few hours of sleep, and a thick coat or two of makeup. I’m a mess and so not a hot one.
I want him, desperately. It almost kills me to turn him away, but I can’t risk frightening him off. I can’t risk losing him again.
“I can’t…”
I can almost feel his disappointment as he sighs. Instantly I feel guilty.
“Tomorrow?” he asks, hopeful.
I respond with an enthusiastic, “Yes.”
He chuckles. The deep rumble has my heart skipping a beat.
“How about my place?”
I enthusiastically respond again without really thinking, “Yes.”
Maybe that was a mistake. I would prefer to meet in public then maybe head back to his place for coffee. But what if I offend him by asking for somewhere else?
“I’ll text you my address.”
“Okay.”
My phone vibrates. I pull it away from my ear and sure enough he’s sent me his address. Wow, he lives in the nice part of town. I’m not sure the bus even runs there.
“How about 5:30. And if you’re late, I won’t hold it against you?”
Am I dreaming? Did I fall asleep on the bus? I punch myself, it hurts. Yep, I’m definitely awake.
“Sounds good.”
If he stands me up this time, well, now I’ll know where he lives. I’ll send him a letter full of glitter in vengeance. The small kind of glitter that sticks around for years, the kind you find stuck in your creases months later.
“You sound tired. Get some sleep. You’re going to need your energy tomorrow.”
He chuckles again. Just the implication that he hints at gives me a surge of nervous energy.
I’m exhausted, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep. I’m going to toss all night thinking about him.
I need to start getting ready, though, immediately. There are places to shave and nails to be done. If I start now, I just might be ready in time for our date.
“Good night, beautiful, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night, AJ. Sweet dreams.”
Chapter Five
My alarm goes off an hour early. I’m drooling, my pillow is soaked. Yuck. I must have slept deeply.
Wiping the slobber off my face, I sit up in bed. Today is another new day. Anything can happen. Bring it.
I reach over to my nightstand and unplug my phone. It’s fully charged and there’s a text from AJ.
AJ: Good morning, beautiful.
He sends me that text every day. It’s exhilarating to know I’m the first thing he thinks of every morning. He’s the first thing I think of. I text him back.
Me: Good morning.
A couple of seconds later my phone dings and vibrates.
AJ: I’m looking forward to tonight.
Me: Me too.
That’s an understatement.
AJ: Have a good day.
Me: Ditto.
I send him a kissy face.
Time is wasting. Last night, I passed out after plucking and shaving. Today, I’ll need every minute I have to shower and to do my hair and makeup. I jump out of bed and run to the bathroom to get started.
I make my coffee to go and drink it on the bus ride to work. I feel my cheeks starting to tire. I can’t stop smiling.
I’m
floating on cloud nine at work as I go about my filing. I have to keep myself from humming and disturbing the office.
Andrew isn’t even at work today. He’s been missing all morning. I don’t have to worry about him messing with me before I leave. My day keeps getting better and better.
After lunch, the nerves start to set in. As the hour grows later and later, and meeting AJ comes closer and closer, I’m plagued with anxiety. The stakes feel even higher this time around.
I’m meeting him at his place. He told me twice that he loves me. What if he doesn’t like my face? What if we have absolutely no chemistry?
He knows almost everything about me. My hopes, my dreams, and all my fears. You can’t force attraction. He could still find me repulsive.
The second half of my day drags on a lot longer than the first half. The bounce is gone from my step. I’m no longer floating around as if I’m some beautiful, cheerful princess humming to the birds in an enchanted forest. Now I’m just trying to hold it together, trying not to give myself a heart attack. If only chill pills really did exist, I’d take one.
I leave work without a hitch. Looks like this time I’m going to be on time. AJ’s place is on the other side of town. I hail a cab. If I took the bus, I’d have to switch more than two times just to get there.
Peering out the cab window, I watch the city change the closer we get to AJ’s part of town. It’s as if we cross some magic invisible line, on one side it’s clean and well kept. The other side is left to deteriorate and languish.
The dirty and cracked gum covered sidewalks transform into tidy, tree-lined streets. Corner convenience stores become high-end boutiques with large glass windows showing off the trendiest styles. Hot dog stands are replaced by fancy bistros with patio seating and snotty waiters. The cars parked on the street start to cost more than I make in a year.
