Today, for no reason that I could identify, I was overwhelmed with anxiety and on the edge of tears. It would be easy to blame Tim because he is, of course, the source of my anxiety. He has done nothing wrong.
Yet I was having a major league freak out.
I knew, rationally, there was nothing to worry about. He did not call me last night, but that didn't seem like a huge thing. I didn't call him either. I knew that even if there were something to worry about, I would survive just fine. The way I have survived every other break up in my life.
It didn't help.
I emailed Pele and she gave me rational words: It's fine that Tim didn't call last night. He sent a text. It's fine that you don't have something on the books right now. If you would like to have something on the books, call him and ask him to do something.
That was my plan, actually. That I would call him tonight and suggest that we go out on Friday. That I would, under no circumstances say, "when am I going to see you again?" I even had two suggestions ready: swing dancing or movies. The same two date ideas that Pele suggested. We're scary.
I thought, "I'll just send him a text this afternoon." I didn't want to bother him at work. I composed the message, but I couldn't send it. I decided to call him, but I waited. At 4:00pm, I called. I used my work phone so I could hang up without leaving a message if he didn't answer. I might have left a message, but I wanted the option. Calling from work provides freedom from caller id since it displays a different number every time.
He answered. "Oh, you're calling from the work phone."
"Yes. It's phone number lottery, you never know which one you'll get."
"Nothing. Just working. Well, not this minute." I'm incabaple of coming straight to the point in a phone call. I need a few minutes to warm up.
"I took the afternoon off so I could do my homework. I'm way behind. I need to get this studying done." Wonder why. My fault! "Can you hang on for a second?" He comes back on the line, "Sorry about that. It was my therapist. I'm missing an appointment right now. I got so caught up in studying I forgot all about it."
I started laughing, apologized, and kept laughing.
"Is that funny?" He sounded amused.
"No. I don't know. No. Are you going?" I was thinking, lord, at least I'm not the only crazy one. And he's not the only one who needs a therapist. Of course, his issues are situational. I get to be crazy ALL the time.
"Yes, I have to run."
"Ok. I was just wondering if you wanted to get together."
"Sure, but tonight I have class..."
"No, I know. Not tonight. I was thinking Friday. I'm busy Thursday."
"Oh, what are you doing on Thursday?"
"I have plans." Me: coy.
"No, heh, I'm ushering." At Arena Stage. Get to see the play for free.
We discussed ushering and he asks what play I'm seeing and says, "That's great. You get to see the play and you're helping out the community." Damn. Stop being so nice, Tim, I might start to like you or something. "Can I call you when I get home from class tonight?"
"Sure. Talk to you later."
Maybe he is going to break up with me suddenly, unexpectedly, and with no warning.
But it sure doesn't feel like it.
Grateful for: stopping the insanity. For now.