Showtime

So these last few days have been plenty of drama. And I hate to use that word, I am so above it.

Basically, let’s just say it all reverts back to Brad.
In the last few days, we’ve hung out a lot. I’m talking lunches, dinner, late night coffee.

Essentially, I’ve seen so much of Brad that it feels my world is melting into one with his.

He came over Monday night and we basically just hung out, watched some TV, sat on my terrace and talked in the nice weather. Of course, I was wearing his ring, but around my neck, I couldn’t dare wear it on my finger, for fear of how he, or I, would react.

Eventually, we moved to the couch and started talking and kissing. Then, we moved to my bedroom where things really got hot and heavy. We didn’t do much, and, thankfully, my clothes stayed on. Yes, I know other lovers and strangers, my clothes stayed ON!

Eventually, one thing lead to another and we just—well, we fell asleep on each other. Next time I know it’s 3 AM, and I have class in 5 hours. As I woke him up and walked him downstairs, looking absolutely hideous, he kissed me goodbye and I watched him walk to his car.

The next morning, I hear my phone go off with a txt message, and then another, and then another. It was Brad. I blame myself because I left my phone on, and he thought I was in class, but for the next two hours, I struggled in between getting some sleep and txt messaging him. Somehow, and I have no idea where, he was picking me up in twenty minutes for a power lunch.

34 txt messages, an espresso shot, and a quick change later, I was waiting down in my lobby’s courtyard for Brad. As he pulled up in a huge white worker-van, I felt butterflies in my stomach.

Did anyone but me think it was odd I was seeing him twice in almost seven hours?

After a quick trip to Home Depot and a work-related pick up on his part, we managed to stop in front of South St. Burgers when he got a call from his mother. After listening to them talk about seeing him rush to find a phonebook to help his ill mother find the number for her drug plan company, a part of me realized why he could never be fully committed to me. The poor boy was sweating of stress it was so sad. I just wanted to hug him so badly, but I had to settle for sitting across from him.

We finally ordered our burgers and got a seat on the outdoor patio. At 21+ C, it was a gorgeous day. With the sun on my face, the delicious meal, and the amazing man in front of me, I knew there was nowhere else I wanted to be at that moment. I was even wearing white, which even more stressed my serene state while getting dressed in the morning. Speaking of which, cute Converse jeans at Holts (in white, of course) were bought today.

As we sat and ate our food, it was pretty chill for the first time since our week-long affair.

That night, after struggling through class that day, he came over again. We watched a bit of The Devil Wears Prada and just talked.

I whispered into his ear, Tell me something no one knows about you.

After careful consideration, he replied, Nobody knows that I think I’m falling for you.

Fuck, did people actually say that shiz anymore?

I cleverly avoided the comment by giving my trademark smile and chuckle, and continued to watch the movie.

Later that night, in my bed, we got a little closer. During a break, he said to me, I don’t know what I did before you. My world was so empty, and now all I want to do is see you, be with you, you make me complete in some way.

Okay, this was too much for me. First you don’t want a relationship and then you want a relationship. Is that it? EXPLAIN TO ME DAMNNIT.

As I said goodbye to him at 1 AM, I knew I couldn’t reverse what we’ve gotten ourselves into. One of us would get hurt, and I was not sure if I wanted to take the hit for this one.

Yesterday, as I struggled through class, I found myself with an extra-long break in-between. Naturally, I had lunch with Brad again. This time, we did it quick time at Tim Hortons, where he proceeded to bring up his feelings for me, and the fact that he doesn’t know what I’ve done to him.

But by the same token, he talks a lot about my ass and how he wants to fuck me. It’s really been on my mind. Does he want me? Or does he want to fuck me to break my two-year-one-month virtue record??

He mentioned that he used to be able to fool around and have sex without emotion, but suddenly I have changed him and kept him coming back for more, and, apparently, for me.

So I got to thinking: Is time even a variable in all of this? Who’s to say he won’t get over me once he gets my cherry? Just because those guys gave it up quicker than I am, he was able to get over it quicker only by consequence. Who’s to say when I give it up, he’ll stay around?

But his words were definitely sending mixed signals! What did he want from me? I mean, we’ve hung out quite a bit so what does that tell you?

That night, Rhi and I stayed in for our traditional Top Model/Girlfriends Wednesday Night Party. It was nothing special.

Before I went to bed, I called Brad up to say goodnight, and see what was up with him.
Not surprisingly, he was doing a million things at once.

However, he seemed to be getting a ton of nudges on MSN, and I asked who the hell is nudging you so much?

Oh, some new person I’m talking to.

WHAT? NEW PERSON?

I’m wearing that damn ring, not that it means anything more than I like it, and he’s telling me I complete him, he’s falling for me, and talking to other people.

I can’t no more of this. Either he will or he won’t. He does or he don’t.

I slowly ended our conversation, and we said good night.

This morning was nothing out of the normal. French Lit exam. Shopping. Visiting my parents.

And, of course, text messages from Brad. Since he wanted to play that game, I sent him an ‘accidental’ txt message intended for someone else, and he got all pissed at me and wondered who it was.

And of course, as I write this, I’m waiting for Brad to finish his dinner plans and then come hook up with me. We’re going for our “Party in the Park,” what that exactly entails is beyond me.

And as I type these lines and this newest saga in the Brad-Me Story, I can’t help but look at this ring, shinning back at me form the reflections of my pot lights.

What will become of me? What will happen tonight? Does it even matter?

I’ve decided that tonight is the night. Either he wants to figure out what we’re doing and cut the crap. I mean, I don’t mind being just one on one with him, not a relationship, but at least some exclusivity. Give a bitch a break. I might even have to give up the ring if I don’t like what I wear, but I will not be jerked around.

It’s showtime.