That was fine and dandy when I was the only one affected, but now I have someone else’s feelings to consider; things are a little more cluttered. On top of that, I’ve never had any real dealings with someone like her. Not only because we come from two distinctly opposite ends of the social spectrum, but because she’s just tops all around.
Sweet, honest, beautiful, caring, all the things a bum like me don’t deserve, especially not the way I’ve been acting this last year before she came along. Lisa doesn’t strike me as the type to brawl, and I’m the type to like a good knockdown drag-out fight until the issue gets resolved and then move on with life.
We drove in silence for a good ten minutes without saying a word to each other. I didn’t even turn the radio on because I needed the silence to calm down. Then I started second-guessing whether or not I was going overboard with my inner assessment. “When did you first see that picture?”
I’m not stupid. I’d already put together Alexis’ strange behavior at lunch with this new revelation. I’d kept my voice damn near neutral, but the way her head came up and around, I was almost certain she’d heard the underlying anger. Or was that disappointment she heard?
“When we left the cafeteria this afternoon.”
“So, more than six hours ago, and you didn’t think to call me; you just ignored my calls.” Even as I was speaking, I tried reminding myself that she’s been sheltered all her life. That the stories she told, whether she realized it yet or not, were of a young girl who was never allowed to experience life the way most teens her age does.
I never judged or made any comments before about the things she described, not because I thought it wasn’t my place, but because there’s no good way or reason to shit on someone else’s upbringing. I’d made up my mind to introduce her to all the things she’d missed. Innocent things that I myself had enjoyed as a teen.
So, in short, I realize that there are some social cues she might miss, but that’s about as much as I was willing to give her. For me, there’s just a natural human instinct, common sense, if you will. No, it’s more than that. I think I was hurt because I knew in my gut that had the tables been turned, I never would’ve doubted her.
That was not just surprising but jarring as well and added to my bag of mixed emotions. It’s true, and though I’m not the most distrusting person, I do know it takes me longer than the amount of time we’ve known each other for me to go all in.
We’d reached the bay before I knew I was headed there, and I drove to the overlook and just parked. I didn’t feel the need to yell at her, nothing like that, so wasn’t sure at first why I couldn’t bring myself to talk to her. Then it hit me; I was hurt. I was hurt by her easy acceptance that I’d been the type of person….
“I was wrong, huh! I messed up; I should’ve asked you before…. Jess said I should call you, but I was so confused and hurt and scared.” That last word was barely above a whisper, but it somehow erased the growing anger in my gut. I got out of the truck and walked around to let her out.
I didn’t release her hand when I helped her down, which is something I guess because though the anger was gone, the disappointment was still there. “You say you messed up. How did you mess up in your eyes?” Dad always said communication was key when dealing with a partner. Though I wasn’t as sheltered as her, it had been a while since I’d been involved in anything even remotely resembling a relationship, and certainly none like this.
In my youth, relationships were a dime a dozen. You fell in and out of love every damn week, which of course, is not love but at the time feels like it. Now that I’m grown, I have a better understanding of such things, but maybe my ideals are too vaunted. Nah, trust is tantamount. If her trust is so easily broken….
Where am I going with this? Am I really this hurt that she didn’t trust me? The answer is, yeah, I am. But I can’t bring myself to lash out at her. Now what? Do I play this game with her time and again? Is she going to react this way each time something happens? And do I need this drama in my life?
It wasn’t just that she didn’t trust me; it was the fact that she shut down, shut herself off, and ignored me. For that hour or so, when I couldn’t reach her, a million thoughts ran through my head, and none of them were good. But how do I say to someone who was hurt and afraid that she went about this the wrong way?