A Perfectly Reasonable Explanation…
15/10/2015: Operation Blog Catch-Up
As you can probably tell over the last few posts on the blog, I’m very into The Director right now. Whatever it is he’s got, it’s working for me. I can’t wait to see him. I change plans to see him. I make sure I have funds set aside to see him. I do things for him too – I massage, I put out on demand, I cook, I clean, I drop to my knees and share my social-ness knowledge to help better his business.
It’s not one-sided – he does things for me too. When I get the train to his, he always drops me home right to my door the next day. It’s only fair after the good time I’ve shown him. Those were his words, not mine. He runs out in the street topless, commando, in just pair of shorts and his slippers to go and get me an ice cream from the ice cream van. You can’t beat a Mr. Whippy with a flake (remember the old 99’s!) for breakfast on a Sunday morning.
There is one side of him I’m having a little difficult with though. He’s very hot-headed and it terrifies me a little. There’s quite a lot I can’t say which makes writing about him difficult but he’s a pretty terrifying, intimidating kinda dude. He’s strong, a martial arts expert (an actual one, not just one who says he is), and he has weapons I shouldn’t have seen in the house. That’s it. That’s all I’m saying. He’s pretty intimidating despite being nothing but a big teddy bear with me. Most of the time.
We had a fight on our second date, one that he instigated for what seemed like no reason. Or at least a pretty pointless and petty one. We have mini-fights all the time. Play fights. Not real fights. It’s all foreplay really. We fight for fun because we can. It’s only for jokes and we always kiss and makeup. That’s just how we are. That’s just what we do.
Being the writer and social whizz kid that I am, I taught him a few things that could better his business. He wants me to help. He knows getting me onboard will boost his business. The little bit of help I’ve given him so far has already had a much bigger impact than he was expecting so he wants me to stick around. But he’s a real grumpy old man when he doesn’t understand stuff. He accuses me of being condescending and patronising when I’m going too fast or having a little difficulty getting him to understand something. He snaps really quick. He gets snappy really quick. I know if I give him a minute to have a little rant then kiss it all away, he’ll be fine. But sometimes he really gets personal.
He had client-meeting a few days ago and he got more than a little drunk. I had been busy, writing away all evening and I figured I’d let him get on with it so I left my phone on charge and did my thing. Calling me from his hotel room, the first thing out of his mouth was:
“Where have you been? I was texting you at 6pm and you send two one-word answers back and then I didn’t hear from you again. What the fuck?”
…. Erm. Really?
He’s a 40+ year old guy giving me drunken grief because I didn’t text him back for a couple of hours. I sassy-panted right up of course. How could I not? Shut up, you’re being a fucking bell end, I have a job, I was working. I have work to do. I don’t just sit on my ass and do nothing all day waiting for you to text me. I was really annoyed.
He took things to a brand new level when he told me it wasn’t a real job and the amount of words I had written wasn’t a lot of words. He criticised my writing style (despite not really having seen it), the way I worked, everything. It really hit me hard.
My first ever online-published articled all those years ago was such a great big deal for me. It was the most exciting thing I’d experienced to date. Seeing those words, my words, on that website was a feeling I can’t explain. Right there and then, I fell in love with creating words. I’m not perfect at it now and I make mistakes and type too fast and don’t proof-read enough but I love it. It’s my passion. It’s everything to me. But my delightful husband mocked my first ever published piece and it hit me hard. From that point onwards, I’d never shown anyone my work. No one I know has ever seen my writing, what I can do. Not even Bestie has seen the extent of my work. I get very bad anxiety showing anyone to this day. It’s a weird thing I have and it’s fine. I deal with it.
But I showed The Director and he mocked me. He mocked my work, the way I work, the things I do.
He didn’t remember when I told him the next day either. He couldn’t remember those drunken mumblings. Words that had such an impact to me meant nothing to him. He didn’t even remember saying them. I made him aware of his mistake and we moved on. He wasn’t to know that would hurt me so bad. We have this playful, jokey, take-the-piss-out-of-each-other banter all the time. He didn’t know that was a taboo subject for me. So I told him and we moved on. Isn’t that what relationships are all about? Live, learn, fix, move on?
Well, something else happened. Sorry, I know this post is already long enough as it is but I gotta get it out. I gotta talk about it because it’s bugging me. He was sorting out some email stuff for his business so I left him to get on with it. I busied myself getting my shit together, packing my bag, brushing my teeth, going for a wee, etc. When I came out of the bathroom at one end of the hallway, I saw The Director’s two cats dart out his bedroom. I also saw The Director shoot from one side of the room to the other, back to his computer where he’d been sat when I left him. I looked at what was on the other side of the bedroom where he’d been… My phone.
Plugged in and playing music which had conveniently stopped, I think he was trying to look at my phone. What made it worse is I had two messages pop up on the screen – one from a female friend and one from Plan B. Awkward.
I think he turned the portable speaker off so I wouldn’t hear the notifications play through. When they do, it temporarily stops the music for a moment. He would have been aware I had messages and I would have been aware if I’d heard the notifications too. I think that’s why he turned the speaker off.
I think he was looking at the messages on my phone when he heard me coming out of the bathroom and darted back to the computer to finish writing the email he was telling me about. The email he hadn’t even opened yet…
Really? First the drunken fights and then the sneaking through my phone? Well, I think anyway. I can’t prove that. But c’mon. It doesn’t look good does it? I don’t really know what to do about this. My phone is pretty much on lockdown most of the time and the Plan B message was just a nasty coincidence. We’re talking but not really regularly and it’s not on a datey-theme. I’ll talk about this another time. But why else would The Director have been on that side of the room? It doesn’t make any sense to me at all. Looking at my phone is the only conclusion my head can jump to.
If this had been anyone else, I probably would have just walked away. But I think I’m a little too invested now. I really like this guy. Our dates haven’t been normal dates. We’re both more involved than we should be at this stage. He’s incredibly territorial over me already. I like that he’s protective of me but this phone-thing, if it’s even a thing at all, has got to stop. Because if he looks for stuff, he’ll find stuff. He’ll find this stuff – my blog stuff. It’s MY phone. I shouldn’t be worried about this already… Should I?
I shall monitor the situation and if I feel the need, I will bring it up with him. We’ve been very honest and open about everything up until this point so why not?
He might have a perfectly reasonable explanation…
But here’s some dating advice lads – don’t start drunken fights four or five dates in and don’t get caught seemingly going through a girl’s phone. Uncool!