Bumble and the Question

 I honestly don’t know if I’ve talked about Bumble or not. I’m not going to look back and see if I did. So here we go.

Sara, if you’ve been reading, is a close friend whom I developed feelings for and that part of it didn’t come to fruition. I haven’t spoken to her in almost a month, as a way of saving the friendship from becoming corrupted. The only communication I have had with her is a handful of pokes on Facebook, most of them tonight, for what reason I’m not really sure. Maybe wine, maybe indicating in some code only I know that I’m allllmost ready to talk to her again, who knows. Before this impasse I instituted between us, I was trying to woo her over the best ways I can. Using my various talents, such as painting, and in a much more ridiculous sense, a book, like an actual hardcover children’s style book, I gave it my best shot, but nope, she didn’t see me that way. This is where Bumble comes into play (pictured above). It started as a joke I made to her. Saw it at a store and commented on the ridiculousness of a hybrid bear bee. Later, I purchased it with the intent on giving it to her, As my way of telling her how I feel. I invited her to dinner one day back in February. She agreed. Eight o’clock. Spent allllll day cleaning the apartment to a state not matched since the day I moved in. Eight fifteen, I texted her on her status. She said she had a migraine and had to cancel. This didn’t bother me as much as the fact I HAD to text her to find this out. Why didn’t she tell me earlier!? We rescheduled, it was alright. The next evening came along, and she was not feeling well. Frustrated yes, but ok, let’s try a third time. When she said she had a stomachache I figured it out. At that point, Bumble was no longer to be hers. I would not give a piece (or more than a piece) of my heart (Bumble) to someone who wasn’t going to A. Give me hers and B. Treat it right, So Bumble has stayed with me and is mine, a s a representation of my heart being mine to give, and by my choice alone. And only to someone who knows what to do with it. He sleeps with me sometimes when I’m feeling down, but usually he stays in the car, as someone to make me smile as I drive. He means a lot to me.

Now the question I have to answer is “Am I ready to talk to her again?” Not that I set a goal or objective to when I know the answer to this question. And maybe that was part of me not thinking it through. I just figured a gut feeling would tell me when the answer was yes. And that feeling isn’t saying it….yet. But it’s close. But I resume my friendship with her, will I fall into that trap again? I think I’m definitely better defended against that possibility now. I don’t want to talk to her again until I feel that I won’t go back to daydreaming of her again. And I feel I can wait now, after initially feeling I couldn’t go a month without talking to her, here we are. The ball is in my court, and I like that feeling. I think I’ll wait a little longer, then see where it goes. She understands, and I doubt she will hold it against me; this was, after all, an idea she supported and understood. Moving on is always tough, but I’ve made strides, and I’ve actively avoided these types of questions for the most part. But I’m a different person now, a little bit different anyways, and when I’m ready, I’ll tell her hi. Until then, the exile continues. For my own good.

Rocco is trying to gnaw on a pencil.

I drank a few glasses of wine.

I think I’ll stop now.