I am eating raw chocolate chip cookie dough right now from a Pillsbury tube.
That about sums up how I'm feeling about my conversation with The Professor today. I really did have high aspirations to workout as a better means to channel my energy, but showed up the gym to find it closed moments earlier.
So I went to Wal-mart and bought a jump rope and resistance bands and used them at my house while listening to Black Eyed Peas. I just got out of a hot shower and felt the need to finish off the dough so I could remove temptation from my house and go back to eating healthy this week.
OK, enough with the dramatics.
We met for lunch after church and I said my peace about everything. My pre-scripted mental notes were quickly recalled and I delivered my points fairly fluidly. I definitely prayed that God would give me the wisdom to say the right things, the courage to stick to my guns, and a stunning presence that would make The Professor kick himself for not being ready to sweep me off my feet. OK, I didn't exactly pray for the last one, but it would have been a pleasant surprise. I did, however, neglect to pray that God would give The Professor wise words to share with me. He did not. In fact he didn't say much to me, which was surprising since he always has so much to say.
I left with my feelings hurt and even shed a sad little tear in the car (not because I was incredibly hurt, but more as a sense of releasing the pent up emotions from the whole experience).
No "You are so wonderful Kari and I wish I was in a place to date you."
No "I am so disappointed because I really do like you, but I understand that you have to do what is best for you."
No "I can't believe what a jackass I am for not taking a risk to trust you and explore what could be..."
Nothing.
No kind or uplifting words for me. Not anything that lead me to believe in that very moment he felt anything. He offered up a friendship and said he'd call me soon. What the ____HUH?
I left believing I was the only one who felt a sense of loss. It made me feel foolish.
C'est la vie, Such is Life. Not sure why this stuff is so tough, but it could be worse. My perspective is the only sound thing to see me through this week.
5 comments:
proud of you too kar! ...and a little extra cookie dough never hurts - sometimes we need that added dose of comfort ;o)
Cookie dough can fix anything. Plus, calories don't count when you're grieving. xoxo
Jen
also to get you through this week: Monday night's episode of "How I met your mother". When you're watching, keep in mind this one fact: I actually bought her chocolate cake...
Ben and Jerry offer some comfort too. Sorry friend. What is it with "that" name that causes all men who have it to walk around with there heads up their asses?!
I'm sorry that I'm just now reading this, Kari. I wish I could say something wise and profound. All I can say is that we love you and you deserve so much better!!!!! Thinking of you....
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