For a Pessimist, I am Pretty Optimistic

I met Mr. Z when I was 18. We dated for almost a year before I was head-over-heels for him. It’s interesting how now I can barely remember anything good from our relationship. In fact, the most vivid memory I have is of the day we broke up.

It had been over a week since Mr. Z had gone to visit a friend in New Jersey for “a couple of days”. None of my many phone calls had been returned and I was worried that something terrible had happened to him. On day 11 of his visit, he finally picked up his phone.

“Listen, I can’t really talk now,” he said sounding distracted.

“Wait! What’s going on? Are you alright?” I hurriedly asked.

“Yeah yeah, I’m fine. Okay I gotta go,” was his response.

I waited for him to hang up, but my cell didn’t automatically disconnect the call. Nosily, I tried to listen and see if I could hear anything. Once my mom had thought that she hung up her cell phone, but instead I got to listen to her and my step-dad talk about what to get me for a birthday present. Who knows what the hell Mr. Z was up to? I was eager to find out.

I heard a girl laugh and him say the name “Claudia.” After a few more muffled sounds, I then heard what I now know was the most over-the-top fake orgasm ever. Unfortunately for inexperienced me, I was yet aware that faking was a possibility and was horribly jealous over the fact that Mr. Z never made me scream like that. I threw my phone across the room and then burst into tears.

I’ve never been one to know what’s good for me, so during the next few years I would find myself occasionally hooking up with Mr. Z. He was always my rebound guy. I’d be wined, dined, sexed up (if you could call it that) and promises would be made from him. He of course would disappear until “coincidently” I was between relationships again.

I cursed him for making me fall for his crap so many times. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me quadruple, you sneaky prick, revenge shall be mine! I crossed my fingers hoping for him to re-surface. Each time I imagined his return I would see him prostrate on the floor, professing his undying love for me. He’d tell me how truly sorry he was for hurting me so many times. He’d say how blind he was to not realize I was the one. He’d vow to spend the rest of his life making up every wrong he had committed. As he looked up at me puppy eyes beseeching my forgiveness, I would simply say “That’s nice,” turn on my heels and walk away, possibly accompanied by a strategic hair flip.

 A year passed. Then another. Then two more. My dreams of revenge faded away and he never returned. That is, until yesterday!

I waited for the same lines as always. I was so annoyed that he called. It was my husband’s birthday and we had to start getting ready to go to dinner, but we were being lazy. It was bad enough that my cell was across the room and I had to get up to answer it. The last thing I wanted to do was a have a trip down memory lane with him.

“Remember that time you overheard me having sex with that girl,” he bluntly asked.

“Perhaps,” I said dryly.

“And when I called you the next day you reamed me out? I can’t help but think about something you said to me. You told me ‘You will never find anyone who will love you as much as I do.’”

Ah yes, I remembered that too. I had been telling him what a fool he was to turn down a sap like me. Hey, I was an over-emotional 19 year old girl who had been cheated on; I think the drama was excusable in this case. Anyway, that was so long ago! He better not expect that sentiment to hold water 6 years later.

He continued “Well, I’ve been thinking about my life a lot lately and the choices I’ve made. In fact, I’ve been seeing a therapist and you always seemed to be the focus of every conversation. I’ve realized that you have been the only person who ever gave me a second and a third chance, maybe it’s because you believed there was more to me? I don’t know, I guess I was trying to say that I’m so sorry….all the wrongs…you’re the only one…I wish that…one day…in my life…if you could…no regrets…what do you think?”

“Um, yeah. Listen, I gotta go,” I said and hung up.

Finally the moment I had waited years for! Mr. Z calling me, begging for me to feed him humble pie. And what happens? I miss most of his sappy speech due to my husband deciding to pleasurably distract me.

I so do love irony.

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