The Inner Slut

My Dale left for New York two weeks ago. I haven't heard from him since. I sent him a couple of text messages greeting him a happy birthday but I've received no response. I didn't send him any emails but we never did email each other as there was always the phone. The last time he went to New York, some months ago, he called me up from his hotel room just to say hello. Of course, it could have been the strong monsoon rains which stranded thousands of passengers in Manila alone. It could be a thousand and one other reasons.

Truth is, I don't know.

It's terrible not knowing. I asked him long ago for proper groodbyes, should he feel the need to break up the relationship. For the only reason that I respect him so much; that I want to preserve that impression I have of him. I want to remember that I was loved and valued, even for a short while, by a man who I truly respected and will always respect. I want to be able to look back and point to at least one man in my life who loved me and who I loved in return; one decent, respectable man.

I just want a happy memory.

Carl gave me a call yesterday, all tired out from the mess his wife's caused with the car (wrecked it and damaged another in the process) as well as problems with an inheritance from an aunt or someone (her share being contested by family members, etc.). It should be pointed out that the woman is suffering clinical depression, is on meds for this disorder, and is not presently fit to handle any aspect of her life requiring interaction with the outside world.

In response to Carl's inquiry, I said nothing positive has been happening in my corner of the world. It wasn't a very clear connection but in sum, he said that with all the trouble he's been having lately, he wasn't ready to deal with any more. He was in a light-hearted mood, outwardly happy to be talking to me, and obviously taking for granted that I was placed on this earth to pander to his every whim and desire. I was crushed, of course, but I bit my tongue and thought I'd count ten days, considering the present hormonal condition of my body at present. (Read: I'm having my monthly period.)

---

AHA!

Just got off the phone. Guess who? Talk about anti-climax. It was my Dale!

I couldn't believe I was actually hearing his voice over the phone. And minutes after I'd sent him an email expressing my disbelief that he couldn't even say a proper goodbye, blah. (It wasn't a long email, just two or three sentences. But it was as melodramatic as hell.) You know, if there was a god, he certainly has a broad sense of humor.

So, what were the thousand and one reasons?

First, he dropped his phone and cracked the battery. He's always dropping things, like his glasses, for which reason he's decided to undergo eye laser surgery. So why didn't he buy a new phone in NYC? Well, problems with the bandwidth, for one; price, for another. (In case I haven't pointed it out yet, my Dale's something of a cheapskate.)

Second, for business reasons (too many appoitments), he had to stay an extra week. Aside from trying to woo clients and prospective clients, his company's opening an office in New York.

Third, he transferred to another hotel which, although the location was better than the first one, didn't offer boradband internet connection. And when he tried accessing his company's email service, he had difficulties. I guess he was just too busy to send me email. And too comfortable with the thought that I'd wait around for him.

Would I? Last week, I started resigning myself to the possibility of never hearing from him again. This morning, when I sent him that email, I had lost all hope of seeing him again. A bit melodramatic, I know, but it was the best thing to do under the circumstances. So, no, I wouldn't wait around for him. I can be a fool but not that big a fool.

I suppose he'll open that email and read it, and laugh. But I'm sure he'll realize how flimsy this string that binds the two of us really is; how scared I am to hear him say goodbye; and how I spend all my waking hours thinking of him and wishing things weren't so superficial as they are.

What about Carl, then? So he's a bit insensitive and selfish. Aren't we all? I'm getting to know him better as a person, that's a good thing. He's still sweet and thoughtful, seriously working to get things to work according to plan. I guess it's time I learned how to deal with the situation and make the best out of what I have.