Have just had first out-of-body experience...in coffee room.
Was stirring sorry-excuse-for-hot-chocolate into foamy lather when in walked D, coworker/ex-boyfriend (mmm hmmm -- Fish is, indeed, well versed in the uncomfortable and extremely bizarre dating situations). Must have looked at him strangely, am sure. Felt v. strongly compelled to forget that absolutely loathe the man and imagined, quite clearly, throwing self into arms and burying face in v. nice wool sweater.
Is same D who used to say that yours truly was incapable of loving someone else; that was most selfish and unfeeling girlfriend, handicapped when it came to sharing anything real. Wanted to clutch at sweater and yell, "See?! This is what happens! I believed you and you were wrong! Now look at me!" Instead, suffered through the "How's the family" questions and escaped with hot chocolate.
J did call back last night. Ended up staring at cell phone in disbelief once again.
J: Hey.
H: Hi.
J: blah blah blah... got new fish in saltwater tank... blah blah... helped bass player move... huge king sized bed... blah blah
H: About Friday night... I'm sorry that I came so unglued.
J: Don't be.
H: But...there are a lot of blanks for me. It's embarrassing, but I don't remember what happened between leaving A's neighborhood and getting to my house.
J: (sounding v. surprised) Really? You couldn't walk... I had to carry you up the stairs. You were really drunk; couldn't even stand up.
H: That's not because I was drunk. That's because I was crying. V. long silence.
J: You're really embarrassed, aren't you?
H: Mortified.
J: Don't be. It's all fine. Let's not have things get weird. Listen, you around later this week? (uh, huh) Let's get together. I'll email you tomorrow.
Of course J doesn't want it to be weird. J has it v. easy if yours truly simply lets go of humiliation and things go back to where have always been in Land of Everything Remains Unspoken. Am not v. good at being mad. But now, am feeling little bit angry and am not quite certain what to do with said emotion. J crossed line that had kept happily unblurred for so long... line that existed to keep us in safety zone, the crossing of which resulted in complete and utter breakdown for Fish. Want v. much for J to apologize. For starting v. steamy car escapade. For causing Fish crawl from car to stand on v. cold sidewalk, sobbing into mittens. And then, for watching as she, in utter shame, stands there sobbing, trying to pull suddenly-insufficient black, lacy bra back into place with same cold, soggy mittens. Yes. Want him to be sorry. Want him to be sorry and shameful and embarrassed and exposed, and standing on sidewalk, drunk and cold, without any idea of what to think or feel.
God damn him.