Ball of confusion

Throughout the morning of December 1, 2009, I felt myself becoming stronger and stronger. I had tolerated a lot in my relationship with Buckeyes Boy, but I would not tolerate being treated so disrespectfully. I could accept the fact that we were not on the same page anymore with respect to what we wanted out of a relationship. But, blocking me from Twitter and having a new cell phone number that I didn’t even know about were unacceptable! I hadn’t heard from Buckeyes Boy in almost three days, but I had texted him to bring my keys and the money for the parking tickets to the Twixer at Bardeo that evening.

At 2:30pm, I received the following e-mail from Buckeyes Boy:

I’m sorry I haven’t written until today. After the holiday, it was a little crazy and I was actually not feeling too great over the past few days.

Nonetheless, we definitely need to talk. A lot was on my mind in Georgia, and it certainly changes things. Are you around tomorrow? I’m still up for grabbing coffee or whatever. Let me know if that works. Hope you had a good few days.



I stared at my laptop incredulously and picked up the phone to call Julie. I read her the e-mail and asked:

Is he just fucking with me?

Julie: Could he just responding to your e-mail from yesterday and not your text?

Me: Huh. Maybe.

Julie: What if that really wasn’t his cell phone?

Me: Who knows? It’s weird that he didn’t mention anything about the Twitter blocking or the phone number in his e-mail, though. I am so confused! And, why the fuck is he still signing his e-mails, “Me?”

Neither of us understood from where Buckeyes Boy was coming. An hour later, I sent him the following reply:

I’m not sure if you got the text I sent to your 867# earlier. I’m also not sure if you realize how much it hurt me that after I opened my heart and my home to you, you blocked me from Twitter without even talking with me about things first.

I’m going to Bardeo tonight if you are heading there and want to talk afterward. If you aren’t, I can do coffee tomorrow anytime from 12 on. Whichever you choose, please bring my keys and take care of your parking tickets.


Buckeyes Boy didn’t make me wait long for a response:

No actually. That was a temp sim card I had from a friend’s other at&t phone. I probably still have my vm message on there. I used it to try and fix my phone’s issue. I had it the night she came to the event. I’m not trying to hurt you nor do I have other cell phones.

Anyway, as for Twitter, I haven’t blocked you. I’ve barely been on there, except for the event the other night. Don’t know what the issue is, but I haven’t caused it. I’d rather talk tomorrow if that works, because I have plans after. I’ll bring your keys and I have (1) outstanding ticket.


My frustration had abated a bit, but my confusion by this point was off the charts. I wanted to believe everything that he wrote. Was the Twitter blocking just a glitch? Did he really not have another cell phone? If he wasn’t trying to hurt me, then why was he treating me this way and why hadn’t he contacted me up until today?

I wasn’t sure what to believe by this point. The only thing I knew for certain is that Buckeyes Boy and I were over. I e-mailed him:

I appreciate you clarifying things, and I hope you realize how the combination of Twitter and not hearing from you would hurt. It looks like there were two tickets from when you went to meet your sister for coffee and from Georgetown. Thanks for taking care of them.

Let me know what time tomorrow works for you.


Later that night, I drove up to Bardeo. I had made plans to meet my friend, Misty, at 8pm for a drink downtown so I wouldn’t feel tempted to linger at the event. I walked into the Twixer and looked around the bar. There wasn’t a big black man in sight so I said hello to old acquaintances and made some new ones.

My friend, Ethan, arrived, and I gave him a huge hug hello. (I needed all the moral support that I could get that night.) I caught him up on recent events, and he stood there with his mouth and eyes wide open. Fifteen minutes later, Buckeyes Boy walking into Bardeo. He said hello and then went toward the back of the bar to talk to his friend, Paul.

When I saw him approach the bar an hour later, I headed toward him. (I didn’t know if he was leaving or not, but I needed to meet Misty soon.)

Me: Hey.

Buckeyes Boy: Hey. [He gives me a hug. I start to let go, but he hugs me tighter and longer. I feel forlorn.] I’m sorry that I didn’t get to come over to you earlier.

Me: No worries. There are a lot of people to catch up with. How are you?

Buckeyes Boy: I’ve been slammed at work since I got back. When I have 15 minutes without a meeting, I’ve been trying to close my door and get some sleep. I’m exhausted.

Me: Are you still sick? [He nodded.] I can tell in your eyes.

Buckeyes Boy: Thanks. Yeah, it’s been a tough week for the Buckeyes Boy family. My sister and Dad are hurting. They haven’t gone to work since we got back from Georgia.

Me: Well, I hope all of you feel better soon!

Buckeyes Boy: Thanks! A lot. I really appreciate it.

Me: Of course.

Buckeyes Boy: So, I was thinking, if it’s okay with you, we could meet tomorrow?

Me: Okay.

Buckeyes Boy: I have a few meetings during the day, but…

Me: Just let me know.

Buckeyes Boy: Well, we could get together during the day. [I nod my head in agreement.] But, I was thinking that if it works for you, we could meet after work? I don’t want us to feel rushed and want to have time to talk without feeling like I have to squeeze you in between meetings. Would it be okay if we did that?

Me: Sure.

Buckeyes Boy: So, I can call you after the event? I don’t think I’ll have to stay the whole time. So, I can call you? [I nod my head.]

It was odd how much the dynamic between us had changed. He was kind and almost deferential. He was acting like he did before he started his job.

Buckeyes Boy: Good. Thanks. I really want us to have time together to talk. [I nod.] So, do you want your keys back or should I give them to you tomorrow?

Me: I’d like them back.

Buckeyes Boy: So, I should give them to you now then? {What part of “I’d like them back,” is confusing?]

Me: Yes please. [He hands them to me.] Thanks.

Buckeyes Boy: So, how are you doing? [I shrug my shoulders with slightly pursed lips. I willed myself not to tear up and thankfully, I didn’t.] Not easy, huh? [I shake my head to indicate “no.”] It’s good that we’ll talk tomorrow. [I nod.]

Paul approached us, and I said hello to him.

Me: I’m off to meet Misty. I thought we were going out for drinks, but it turns out that we’re going to a fashion show party. I so wouldn’t have worn this. [Paul and Buckeyes Boy give me the once over.]

Buckeyes Boy: You look good. [Paul nods.]

Me: Thanks. But, come on — fashion show good?!? [We laugh.]

Buckeyes Boy: Any chance you have a dress in that bag? [I’m carrying a tiny Chanel purse. We all laugh some more.]

As we put on our coats, Buckeyes Boy approached me for another hug goodbye. For the second time that night, he held me for longer than I held him.

We walked out of Bardeo, and I thought to myself,

Maybe, just maybe, we could be friends or…

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