Monday, February 28, 2011

I have seen The Couch and it was brown


Okay Follies, I’ll be honest.  I started this post after downing three glasses four glasses a bottle of wine and while watching crazy Melissa Leo stoned James Franco the Academy Awards, so I’ll attempt to make sense of what my drunk self was saying.

First, a little background on why I went over to D’s.

I know that earlier this month I saw D and had A Super Bowl of a Realization.  It was freeing to realize that I really was ready and free to move on, and I felt great if a bit conflicted about the whole thing.  But there’s no denying that my relationship with D was healthy, and real, and if he wanted to talk about us, our future, or the breakup, I didn’t want to turn that down.  Once he called, I knew there was a possibility that he wanted to get back together, and if the appropriate changes had taken place then I was open to discussing that with him.

So, I went over to his house to see The Couch.  And truth be told, it’s a very nice couch.  Really is. I mean, I have some nice couches, but I’m a little jealous of his couch.

I'm a couch!
BUT.

For the first hour of being over there that’s all he could talk about.  The Couch.  Then we watched some NCAA.  He’d watch the game, then talk to me.  Then watch the game, then talk to me.  It was a thrilling hour, let me tell you.  But something happened during that first hour.  Remember how I felt when I was last there? Yeah, that came back, and I realized I just didn’t want to get back together with him.  No matter what he had to say – changes or no – I just wasn’t interested anymore.  I knew that the conversation we’d have later would be that much more awkward, as I’d be basically walking away from him for a second time, and I started to get The Nerves.

Then he played the guitar for me.  He played the song “You’re Beautiful” by James Blunt and I swear to you I almost started CRYING.   

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
There must be an angel with a smile on her face,
When she thought up that I should be with you.
But it's time to face the truth,
I will never be with you.

The lyrics, The Nerves, it was just too much.   I couldn’t figure out if he was playing the songs just to play them, or if he was trying to be all sweet and lovey about getting back with me.  But like I said, that wasn’t going to happen. I mean, when your ex-boyfriend plays the guitar for you and all you can think about is, “The Bandleader plays guitar so much better…” then you probably shouldn’t get back together, amirite?

We’re about two hours into the visit now, and neither of us has yet to bring up the real reason I’m there.  Since I felt like he was being a little chicken about talking to me, I decided to have a little fun see how long it’d take him to man up.  I mean, I didn’t have anything to do until the Oscars telecast so why not?

Yes, I’m playing games.  I know it’s bitchy.  Can you blame me, though?

At some point, he and I were sitting next to each other, both of us having something to say.


Okay pause.  Yes, I did come out and say that to him.  It needed to be said, and clearly he wasn’t going to bring it up.  Let’s continue.


Poor guy looked so dejected, but honestly – what relationship was he in for the past YEAR that he thought that was a viable option?  And I’m sure it hurts to have a girl put you into the “Friend Category” like that, but I needed to make things clear.  If we end up being friends that’s fine, but there will be no benefits to this friendship.  That’s not how Folly rolls.

I felt almost euphoric after the meeting, because I felt like I had really and truly moved on.  Plus, I’m excited to see where things go with The Bandleader, and with any other prospective guys out there.  I feel great!

So, in the end, D-Day ended up being totally fine.  In celebration, I may have enjoyed too much wine last night.  And by may, I mean did.  And boy did I regret it this morning.  Although it did make the Oscars that much more enjoyable. And let's be honest, that Oscars telecast needed something.  For me, that something was, apparently, Red Red Wine.




Lyrics by James Blunt, song "You're Beautiful"

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