28. Ain't That a Kick in the Head

A plunger is one of those household items that you don’t realize is a necessity until the moment you need it most.  My toilet decided, without any warning, to back up on me today… spilling out over an inch of water onto my bathroom floor.  I don’t think that the tank at the back of the toilet holds that much water, so I don’t know how come so much kept pumping out, but alas, it did.  And I used up every single one of my towels mopping it up.  It’s late now, and I’m way too tired to do any laundry, so showering tomorrow is going to be interesting.  

Anyway, while I was out buying a plunger (the first two stores I went to were sold out… I guess it was a bad week for toilets!), I got 3 phone calls.  Two from my mother and one from… oy… an old crush.  A major crush.  Those who knew me back then might go so far as to call it an obsession… and they would probably be right.  This girl (who I shall call M., because that’s the first letter of her name, and let’s face it… I’m not so good with creative pseudonyms – that’s more Liadan’s territory!) had me wrapped around her finger so tight I came close to snapping.  For over a year she practically ruled my life.  I was quite relieved when she moved away.  We kept in touch for about a year after she moved, mainly because I was really worried that she might take her own life, she was really depressed… but as soon as I felt it was safe, I intentionally let things slide.  

She wasn’t depressed while she was here… at least not that I was aware of.  While she was here she was a party animal who knew that she only need crook her finger and I would come running.  It’s not that I was in love with her, or even that I liked her very much; it’s just that… ugh… this is embarrassing, but I have never been as physically attracted to anyone as I was to her, and it was intoxicating.  When I first met her, I actually thought she was a poster or one of those cardboard cut-outs of some movie star… and then she moved and I thought “Holy shit! She’s real!!!”  

Nothing happened between her and I physically – first of all, she is straight, but secondly, I don’t think I would have slept with her if she had offered anyway… and not just because of my morals (i.e.: wait until marriage), but because… well, like I said, I didn’t really like her that much, at least not at first… she wasn’t nice to me.  She was well aware of the hold she had over me, and she took full advantage of it.   I can’t tell you how many times she would call me to come pick her up from some guy’s house, or some club (sometimes at 3 or 4 in the morning), and I would do it.  I bought her groceries, I cleaned her apartment… it’s pathetic, I know… and it’s only the anonymity of this format that is allowing me to admit even part of how bad it got. Towards the end, right before she moved, she started to be nice to me, but by that point I had actually managed to curb my attraction at least somewhat – it was manageable anyway.  But I had gotten into this pattern of taking care of her, and it was a hard habit to break.  

Anyway, like I said, she called today… and this is not the first time.  I think this is probably her 6th or 7th attempt to reestablish contact.  And I’m starting to feel like a bitch for not calling (or emailing) her back.  She is leaving me such nice messages – how she knows I was a good friend, how she’s been thinking about me a lot lately, how she’s sorry for how she treated me, etc…

It’s been a few years, and she’s probably grown a lot as a person, and she does live 5 hours away, so it’s not like I’d be seeing her all the time.  I’m just afraid.  I don’t want to go back there.