… consolation prize?
I got a voicemail last night from Jim. You remember Jim (I’ve blogged about him several times)? The married, Christian guy from North Carolina with 4 kids who is out to his wife and has a boyfriend on the side? The Midwestern boy who’s a musician who loves drum corps and who is extremely intelligent and a smart ass? The one I dated for awhile and fell hopelessly in love with? That Jim?
Yeah, well he called and left a voicemail.
We still sporadically keep in touch through occasional emails or calls. Sometimes we text– nothing regular. And I do love talking to him and finding out how things are going. It’s like catching up with a friend.
A friend who’s penis has been in you.
A friend who makes you realize that you only fall for the completely wrong type of guy and because of this you are destined to be alone for the rest of your life.
Anyway, he always initiates the contact. Partly because I’m trying desperately to leave him in my past, where he belongs. But mostly because I don’t want to call or text him and accidentally interrupt dinner with his wife and family or something.
The worst part is that he tends to call just about the time I’ve blissfully forgotten about him.
Well, the voicemail last night was fairly standard for the first part. Hey, how’ve you been… been thinking about you lately… we haven’t talked in ages… blah blah blah. And then the last five seconds went like this:
Jim: So, hey. News flash. I’m getting a divorce. Call me sometime.
Fuck fuck fuck mother fuck.