I had a quick dinner at Rio last night before rehearsal and was able to spend a few minutes chatting with Karla, Frank's daughter, who works there as a server.
Karla has been with her boyfriend for two years. He is currently playing guitar on a cruise ship, and they had plans to tour Australia and New Zealand together during November and December, before heading off to the Far East to teach English. He called a week ago and said he had changed his mind. He felt he was finally being taken seriously as a musician and he didn't want to go teach English. In one conversation he changed their lives. And then he didn't call for four days. And then he called and said he was all wrong, that he did want to be with her and go teach English in Asia.
Guys! You don't get it. We woman have very speedy minds. You tell me you don't want to see me again and then don't follow up within a day with a contrary statement? I've replanned my entire life. And guess what? You aren't in it. I know how to take care of myself and I'm going to do so. If you don't want to be with me, I'm not going to force you to be with me.
I felt bad for Karla, who has had to deal with this "am I in or am I out" along with trying to figure out what to do next along with trying to support her dad in his grief over his dear friend's death.
As I stood in the shower this morning, pondering this and my current situation, where the Biker appears to prefer writing e-mails and watching TV to being with or talking to me, I remembered the breakup with husband #2.
Dick's daughter resented his having married me and told him all sorts of lies about me, manufacturing things I had supposedly said to her. He would believe those lies and stop speaking to me for three or four days. After a year or so of this behavior, I suggested we separate and try to diffuse the tension and work things out. I loved him very much but was so tired of being treated so unfairly.
His response? "If we're not under the same roof, we're not married." Alrighty then. We're not married. (This was, of course, after the therapist said of our five year marriage, "you know we've been beating this dead horse for two-and-a-half-years".)
Three months later, after having only his scheming manipulative daughter to listen to, he realized he had been a pawn in an evil game. And he called and said he missed me and wanted to get back together.
Three months of peace for me, after many months of turmoil? Sorry, I've moved on.
The point of this story? I'm not going to try to convince anyone that I'm the one for him. Take me or leave me, Baby. If you're not sure you want to be with me, then go find someone you do want to be with. I'm outta here.
No comments:
Post a Comment