I think I stopped, really, updating with my own personal bullshit last March after I made that post: “Let The Games Begin”. I’d said that after Botboy had deployed this time around, he had been good about contacting me and staying in touch at first, but that it had worn off after a time until the day that, after I’d reached out, he’d immediately asked me for money.
There was a part of that that I did not post. And that was the part in which I’d written to him to tell him that due to his lack of communication, I was not waiting anymore. I’m not posting the letter here, some things are best kept private, but I think what, perhaps, pissed me off even MORE (if possible) than his request for money that, to this day I am not confident I’d ever see again had I loaned it to him, was his response to that letter. It was one word: “Neat.” Neat. Neat? Neat. Who the fuck uses “Neat” anymore? The funny thing is, whether he intended to or not, he found a loophole. I’d told him that I’d wait as long as he kept communicating. I may not have been happy with it, I may not have been particularly overwhelmed with the sincerity of the word (and, I might add, utterly confused by its meaning), but it was a response. Technically it met the qualifications.
My friends were pissed. I mean beyond pissed. They have not been Team Botboy for a long time… not since last year when he came home and left me hanging, and even though he’d started, seemingly, to become interested again over the fall, they were not convinced he was sincere. For that matter, neither was I. That’s one of the biggest reasons why I did not even ask for or suggest that we commit before he left on this deployment, it is why I did not say I was taking my profile down the night we went out (and the night he bit me). I wanted to wait and see – I wanted to see if he’d talk to me while he was away, and I wanted to see what he would do once he was back. His behavior over the fall and over Christmas had swayed them to a degree, but they were being cautions. Everyone was.
And, like I said, at first it was fine. But then he reverted, to some extent, back to his own patterns. It wasn’t a total surprise, and it did not hurt the way that it did last summer when it was a completely new entity. Because last summer, it was a shock. Think: you talk to someone all day, every day, for nineteen hours out of that day over the course of six months, and then suddenly they are gone. I mean set aside for a minute the fact that I loved the guy, love only made it worse – the point is, here is someone who was a very, very big part of my life for half of 2013, and suddenly, and inexplicably, he was gone. It was like someone had died. I was devastated. And it took a really long time to get over (and all of that is recorded here for those who care) that. This time, at least, I was half expecting it. Or, if not expecting it, at least prepared for the worst if I needed to be.
At any rate, I did not care to go through that again – at least not without good reason, and certainly not over the course of yet another deployment. I mean, if someone is going to disappear from my life, I’d prefer that they did so after we’d made an honest effort to have a relationship – not some crazy “I never see you because I am always in a place that is not fit for tourism and then when I come back I’m going to run away” situation. At least then I’d have the closure of knowing that a true effort was made. Therefore, if I were even going to consider making myself vulnerable, if I were even going to consider the possibility that I’d have that loss again, I needed the effort behind it to be substantial enough to warrant the risk. And I needed him to prove that he was able to do this. With the receipt of the one-word email, “Neat.”, it became clear that, perhaps, this was more of the “Conflict versus Conflict” card that always seems to pop up in the tarot readings that I do about him (and I don’t mean just mine, I mean the ones others do for me too – with a 78 card deck, you do realize the odds of that happening, consistently, over the course of three months are slim to none, right?).
Ultimately, I was tired of the conflict. I was tired of the inconsistency. I was tired of the drama. I didn’t cut off communication because, with that one word, he held the door open. But I didn’t initiate it after that, either. Not for awhile. I can only really take so much drama, and I can only take so much “in and out” before I start losing my patience. I was a patient woman last year. I have been fairly patient this year. But patience, even for the most patient people in the world, wears thin after awhile. I didn’t start dating again, per se… I have this thing about breaking my promises, and I don’t do it unless I am completely, inarguably, let off the hook, but I started becoming more open to the idea of letting someone else in – someone who could be a little more enthusiastic about things, maybe a little less confused… maybe a little more mature emotionally. Or, at the very least, someone who could appreciate the fact that I was willing and generous enough to make a sacrifice.
And I guess, really, that’s where the shit show actually begins… when I opened the door… a crack…