A monkey wrench

Received the most unexpected phone call today. Like one in a trazillion kind of unexpected. Like getting a call from Kyle Busch himself kind of unexpected. Anyway, I was right in the middle of scooping dog food into bowls, when the phone rang. I could tell by the ringtone who it was. I think that if ears could blink, they would have done a double take, cause that’s what it felt like did. How could I not answer it? This was my one chance to hear his voice. My one chance to…

I answered it, and immediately wished I had spent one more second trying to talk myself out of it. Cause then I would have missed the call. And THOSE feelings and emotions would have been much easier to deal with than the ones that I feel now. *sigh* Will I ever learn?

I knew it wasn’t a social call by his opening sentence. This was all business. It was about money. I explained, we made an agreement, and all was fine. End. Of. Story. No gushiness. No drama. No glorifying ending. It was heartbreaking. The emotionless feeling that ran through the phone was all too familiar.

Why did I suddenly feel short of breath? Why did I suddenly want to cry? Why did I all of a sudden wish he had just drove here and taken me right on the living room couch? No words would have been necessary. Ugh. Whhhhyyyy??

Because it’s wrong. I know. And I don’t want to have to explain THAT story to my therapist. I already have to tell her enough. And she’ll find many more deep freakin’ seeded feelings than I did.

And apparently, it’s healthy.

g’night y’all.