Naturally, we were pouring over details of what went down with the FWB when she told me her own story about a Frenchie. He was, in fact, the reason she moved to Paris. And then she related his wishy-washy games and his excuses. About how it was hard to believe he could ever been an ass, but how he, indeed, turned out to be one.
I cannot believe that my FWB could possibly be a jerk.
Did he let me down? Yes.
Did he shock me a bit? Yes.
Is he an ass? He can't be.
As Miss Tortillas pointed out, however, ¨He was exactly what you needed when you needed it. You were rather down and out, but he showed you what kind of guy you deserve. You deserve to be treated that well and you deserve someone who will commit to you instead of playing you. He showed you what could be possible. So don't settle for anything less.¨
She has a point. But until proven otherwise, I cannot think him an ass. I'd at least like to give him the benefit of the ¨you're running scared,¨ or ¨you're really just not that into me and can't say it to my face,¨ doubt.
Am I going to count on hearing from him in January when he's in Paris for his final Masters seminar? No. Because if I count on that and he doesn't get in touch, it'll only break my heart. I'm preparing myself not to hear from him at all, because then I won't be disappointed.
I cannot think him a deliberate ass. A least for my own sake. Oh well. For the time being he is somewhere cruising along the Mediterranean with his adorable grandmother.
* * *
The Young Diplomat is pretty persistent about seeing me again. He's been texting all week. He's nice and all, but it's still just platonic on my end. Pretty sure it's going to stay that way. Schedule permitting, we'll do lunch next week. Who knows?
* * *
My cell phone and I are glued at the hip, and it's become a bad habit of mine. Mostly due to my job, as I was never this attached to my phone before working for this family. I used to let things go, take my time, not jump at every ring. But now I've turned into this.Which meant last night at some ungodly hour I got a text message that went something like this:
¨I talked about Dangerous Liaisons today and it made me think of you. Bisous.¨
From Monsieur Lawyer.
But drifting in and out of sleep as is, I rolled back over and went back to slumberland. Then I woke up a few hours later thinking I'd dreamed it. Pulled out my Blackberry to see that I hadn't.
Another remise en question.
Is this you messaging me because you can't play anyone else? Or because you genuinely miss me and want to see me? Because last time I saw you your actions made it pretty clear that you had little time for me in your schedule, that you were hesitant to see just me instead of playing your field of I don't-know-how-many-women, and that you had no interested in letting me get to know your friends. I don't know about you, buddy, but that screams one thing to me: I'm just a pretty face you want to try and seduce, not someone you want to get to know or whose mind you want to appreciate. And I just don't play like that.
I cannot tell if you genuinely want to see me, or if this is just some stupid bait to try and reel me back in. I don't even know if I should respond to you. To say that I'm not thinking about it would be lying, but I'm vary cautious about you.
* * *
Tomorrow is Eman's birthday. We'll see how he fares. I can't be here to celebrate because I'm off to Fontainebleau this weekend...le sigh. How is it December already?Oh 2013, I do not know what you have in store for me, but it's going to be...interesting....to say the least.
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