So, just as a reference point of where I'm coming from...that last ex-fwb was a musician. He had a band and had me running promo for it. I put more time and effort into trying to promote this band (that by the way, really didn't do anything to help itself along) than I did into just about anything else for 2 years. I NEVER asked for anything in return...seriously. And if you are my friend, and you are reading this, I bet a million dollars that I either talked you into buying his cd, liking his band on facebook, and/or telling all your other friends to do it, too.
One day we were talking and he tells me that if I can move 1000 cds, he will give me, and I quote "whatever you want."
"Anything?" I asked.
"Anything."
Well, this left things wide open, didn't it? I don't really have much nice jewelry, but then, I don't really wear too much jewelry. A car? A trip? Marriage, kids, and a picket fence? I mean, anything I want?
And do you know what my stupid ass asked for?
An ice cream sundae. I'm not even kidding. I just wanted some ice cream. I wanted him to take me to the Dairy Queen or make me a sundae with some rainbow sprinkles and hershey syrup.
It doesn't take much to make me happy.
And so, the agreement was made...and damn it, if I didn't uphold my end of the bargain. I called my friends, I emailed my family, I ordered a bunch of cd's myself to use as prizes in promo contests. I promoted the shit out of that cd all over facebook and twitter. And before long, I had moved those 1000 cds and probably then some.
"When do I get my ice cream? I sold the cds."
"Soon." "After the World Cup is over." "When I get back in town."
I have been waiting over a year now, and not only did I not get the ice cream, I don't even want it anymore...not from him, anyways.
Do you blame me for being skeptical of each and every man that crosses my path? How can I help it.
So, of course, in typical girl fashion, I have a spaz attack yesterday. I'm going to LA this weekend to go to Disneyland with my niece and nephew...and bonus, new dream guy lives in LA too. So, I'm super excited about this spontaneous trip all the way around. And I call him to tell him, but he doesn't answer. And I text him my news...and he still doesn't answer. And slowly...slowly...I start to freak. Should I have not even told him I was going? Should I not even have agreed to ever go out with him in the first place, thus saving myself the future heartache I am sure must be on the horizon? Do I just have a bad case of PMS? Does anyone have a shot of tequila?
In general, I'm a pretty intelligent woman...at least I like to think so. But when it comes to relationships, I am currently at the "do you like me, check yes or no" stage of things.
This mixture of euphoria and terror sucks.
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