The Beginning | Facts About Myself | Don't Mess With An English Major | The Bake SaleThe Favor | The Rescue | The Brothel | The Number | The Wrist, Part One | The Wrist, Part TwoThe Sighting | The Question | The Concern | The Explanation | The Star Wars Debate The Phone Call | The Holiday Thursday | The Rain Check | The First Freak Out | The TwistThe Second Freak Out | The Clarification | The Confusion | The Awkward ConversationThe Accident | The Show, Part One | The Show, Part Two | The Birthday Dinner | The MoveThe Other Guy | The Final Freak Out | The Reflections | The Friday Night Date The Monthaversary | The Beginning (as explained by Office Boy)
The Twist (as explained by Office Boy) | The Second Freak Out (as explained by Office Boy)
I picked up the phone and swiped to answer the call.
"Hey, can I call you back in like five minutes?" I asked."Yea, sure.""Okay, talk to you later. Bye.""Bye."
I hung up the phone and sighed and looked back at my computer screen. This wasn't a conversation I wanted to have over the phone nor was it a conversation I wanted to have now. I finished my conversation with my friend, closed my laptop and picked up the phone. I dialed the number rather begrudgingly as I walked back into my room. (It's interesting when I read these now because I know what she was thinking. I never expected a lot of these thoughts were taking place. If you ever have the opportunity to have someone write a blog about you, I do recommend it. Note: Now she calls less begrudgingly.) It kept ringing and at first I thought he wouldn't answer. Then he picked up. (SUSPENSE!
"Hi.""Hey," I said."Why'd you have to call me back?""I was talking to a friend on video chat.""Oh, ok," he said. There was a long, somewhat awkward pause. (Well, that was on her. I didn't know what she wanted to talk about. I refuse to take full responsibility on the awkwardness.) "So...""So...umm..."
Jeez. How the heck do I have this conversation? (I'd start with the beginning.) Is there any way to make him think I was confused without bringing his general actions into it? Probably not. Ugh. This sucks. (You need to tell me what I did. Like a dog, I'll never learn unless you identify my bad behavior, and then yell at me. [Note: You shouldn't yell at your dog. Just look at them angrily...they know.)
"So, umm...why did you ask if I wanted to go on a date with Alfred*?" I asked. (See previous post.)"I don't know. We were just talking and he was saying how he's sort of transitioning and trying to get out and do more things. You guys are kind of in a similar place, so I thought you might work.""Oh, ok." I sighed."You're mad," he said. It wasn't a question. (I still ask this question. Who knows what's happening in girl brains?) "No, I'm not mad," I said. I wasn't. Confused as all get out, sure. But mad? No."Are you sure?""Yes, I'm not mad. I promise. I'm just a little confused.""Well, what can I say to make you not confused?"
Oh boy. Here we go. (Yes, here we go indeed.)
"I guess...it's just...umm..." I started. Jeez, Sarah. Pull it together. Just tell him what's up. It's not that hard. (Don't you just wonder if she actually was talking to herself, or was this a literary choice?) "Well, the way you talk and text and stuff, it just...doesn't seem like you view me as just a friend. If that's not the case, that's fine. I guess I'm just confused." (At the time, I wasn't entirely sure. Looking back, it's obvious what I was trying to do. Again, the boy brain is quite secretive, even to the owner of said brain.)"Well, what do you mean?""I mean..." I said, trying not to cry. (I don't like her crying.) Hold it together, Sarah. Hold it together. "I don't know a single guy who would say the things that you say to me to a girl he wasn't interested in.""Oh," he said."It's just that when you say things like how you like calling me and talking to me makes you happy and I make work easier...that doesn't come across as just normal conversation. That comes across as flirting." (All true things, I do like calling and she does make work easier. Example: Yesterday, she showed up later because she wasn't feeling good <editor's note> Well...feeling well.</editor's note> and it was AWFUL. I was stuck in meetings for almost the entire morning, and I kept walking by her cubicle, hopeful she might have shown up while I was away, but no. I was genuinely sad. It makes me wonder if she didn't work with me if I would be able to survive.)"Wow. I feel awful now.""Don't. You just need to be aware of how what you say comes across, that's all.""To be fair, I go into Jillian's* office and say things like, 'I didn't know Tyra Banks was in here.'" (Jillian...fake names. I am kind of flirty though. I work in a field that is primarily female--not sure why that is--so to make life easier, you make the ladies you're with smile or happy and they tend to not be so confrontational. I've seen guys who treat women a little less than kind and their lives become hell. Especially if the ladies are their boss. Idiots...)"True, but you and Jillian aren't the same age. It's not the same thing.""Yea...and I guess even Cubicle Girl said something," he said. "Are you mad at me?" (I felt like I was in trouble.)"No," I said, somewhat exasperated. "I'm not mad. Like I said, it just threw me for a loop, that's all. (I have a dog. He's super cute, but if he does something wrong, we scold him. He starts to look down and look up at you with those big puppy eyes. He feels bad and you can see it in his adorable face. So in this instance, we, as humans, just get frustrated [like I tend to yell at inanimate objects when they can't anticipate my desired outcome]. So when I yell at, let's day, the toaster, and he's (the dog) around -- he does the same face. Even if she may not have been made at me, I felt like my dog.) The way things have been going the last few weeks, I guess, well, I expected if anyone was going to ask me on a date it would've been you." (Patience...apparently I was working on it.)"Oh. The thought never crossed my mind because we work together," he said. And there it is. (Ok, folks -- this is still true. At the time, I hadn't tried to picture that becuase of what my past experience had been. Knowing this, I still didn't want to lose Sarah.) "But I mean, if we didn't work together, absolutely. And like...if I saw you on the street I'd be like, 'Hey.'" (True.)
There was an awkward silence.
"Anything else to go with that hey?" I asked, chuckling."Maybe. I don't know. I'm not very smooth," he said. (I am smooth on occasion.)"That's alright. Being smooth isn't all it's cracked up to be. Trust me, I know." (It is. Being smooth is awesome. I can't imagine a day in the life of Ryan Gosling that doesn't go fantastic.)"But I did mean all of those things that I said. (Yes, I did.) I do like calling you and talking to you does make me happy and you do make work easier. Work things are just complicated. I actually went on a date with another girl from the office and, well, it didn't go well.""Ahh," I said. Figures. There was a pause."Did you want me to?""Did I want you to what?""Ask you out.""I...I don't know," I said, because I honestly didn't. (Yes, you did...) "The last couple of weeks have been really strange and I'm just...I don't really know." The tears started coming. I tried hard to push them back. "I'm just still dealing with everything that happened with Star Wars guy and I just...I don't know if I'm ready for something." (That guy was a douche. I'm glad I'm better looking than him.)"Are you crying?""I did tell you I was a crier.""This is not okay." (I can't stand a lady crying. Especially if it's my fault.)"No, really. It's fine. I promise.""No, it's not okay that I made you feel this way. It's not okay at all." (I felt so bad after this. I didn't know what I was trying to do, but I did know it wasn't right.)"Really, it's fine. To be honest, right now what I probably need is just a friend more than anything else and I'm okay with that for now." (I'm still her friend.)"What did he do to you?""It's...it's a long, complicated story.""I can't imagine anyone treating you badly. You're one of the kindest, sweetest people I've ever met. (She is. She's just so happy and nice to everyone [with exceptions].) <editor's note>I'm really not sure which "exceptions" he's talking about.</editor's note> You're always so excited and bubbly. You just float around the office like a little pixie. I love it." (Accurate.)"Well, thanks.""Do I need to go kill him for you?" I smiled. (I wouldn't actually murder someone. I want to clarify this, with all the craziness on the internet.)"No, I'll be okay, but thanks for the offer.""Anytime.""And like I said...right now I just need a friend.""Well, good, because I really like hanging out.""Me too," I said, smiling. "Well, I should probably get to bed. But I'll see you at work tomorrow.""Okay. Have a good night.""You, too. Bye.""Bye."
I sighed and hung up the phone. Not the conversation I expected to have tonight. (Not the conversation I want to have--because while I could convince myself that I was in charge of my actions, this set the record straight. Some thoughts, despite me making them, weren't intentionally being driven by my conscious self. Such a weird concept, but that's the best way I know how to describe it.)
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