So he's calling me. My phone is ringing, and it's him. I am about to hear his voice for the first time in 8 years.
I'm at the courthouse cleaning, so I slip into the juvenile courtroom which is not being used, and I close the door. My heart is pounding so hard, I thought I was going to vomit it out onto the judge's stand. I am trying to catch my breath so I can answer the effing phone!
"Hello," I say.
"Louis, phone caw!" says The Boy in the silly voice we'd use.
"You remember!" I say as I'm giggling.
"Of course, I remember. That put a smile on my face."
"Hey, I'm at work right now. Can you talk in about an hour?"
"I'm actually on my way to see a friend," he tells me.
"Oh, okay. Wanna talk tomorrow?"
"Sure! I'm not doing anything tomorrow."
"Yeah! So call me anytime," he says.
I am so happy after this. I'm thinking, Okay, he's getting over the heart-sick. We gettin' somewhere now. HE CALLED! The Boy calls = He still loves meeeeee lalalalalalalala!
The next day, I call in the morning. New York is 2 hours ahead of me, so I figure if he's not doing anything and it's 11am there, we should be good.
I try 20 minutes later.
I try a half hour after that.
I call my sister. "WHY ISN'T HE ANSWERING, CARRIE?!"
Carrie replies, "Why are you freaking out? Smoke some pot."
I wait a another full 2 hours.
I'm totally panicking. Not gonna lie. I'm feeling all wobbly and can't think straight. I have no appetite. I put on some Duran Duran.
I go to work and leave my phone in the car on purpose.
I come back to my car after my shift.
He'd left a voicemail. It says to call him back.
I get home and call back. No answer. I fall asleep. He calls.
We talk for about an hour. No lovey dovey stuff. Just catching up on what's been going on in our lives over the years. Great talk! And I'm just like whatever about the earlier part of the day.
So he texts the next day saying how great it was to talk. I say, "Yes, it was! Can we talk again soon?" to which he does not respond.
Now, I'm not really sure how to explain the next phase of communicating with him. It was odd. It was disappointing. It was confusing.
I would text. He'd respond days later or not at all.
Once in a while he'd text, and we'd have a great back-and-forth for a day. But then it'd go back to the silence.
I texted him about it specifically. "Why do you disappear occasionally?"
His reply, "Ashley, don't worry. I'm always here. This is undeniable. I love you. You love me."
Okay, okay. I'll chill then, I guess...
He clearly did not want to talk, though. I asked for another phone call a couple of times. We finally talked again...6 WEEKS AFTER OUR FIRST PHONE CALL.
All of my friends are giving me that look. You know, the look? The Ashley-he-don't-love-you-no-mo-gurl look.
It didn't matter. I was hanging on to the fantasy. I was waiting for him to say he was over his 'heart-sick' and ready for us to see each other. I just had to hang in there until we could see each other.
He starts sending me sexually charged texts. He is either coming on way too strong with that, or I was married to a gay man for 13 years. I could never really decide. But I tried to play along. I was so new to the interacting this way with a straight man. I didn't know anything.
Well, finally after he'd expressed his desire to 'devour' me several times, among other things, I was all:
"Look, if you want me so badly, why aren't we making plans to see each other?"
"You're right," he replied. "We should see each other."
"Are you serious?"
"Don't mess with me, man."
"Not messing with you!"
Of course, I am having an enormous cow. I am practically delivering a cow from my uterus. My cervix was dilated to a 42.
I call him.
He doesn't answer. What the hell?!
He sends a text that says, "With a friend. Can't talk."
"Can we talk tomorrow?"
"Sure, I'll call you tomorrow night."
I'm so giddy that I am embarrassed by everything that comes out of my mouth.
"Okay, so...you're ready? Really? To see me?"
"Yeah! I think it would be fun!" he says.
Then he continues, "Only thing is...I can't really come to you. Because of my teaching schedule, you would have to come out here."
So we talked about shooting for October. It was currently August. I started looking for fares the. next. day. When I nail down a date with The Boy, my ex-husband (because he is that awesome) pays for my flight.
Mid-October. This was happening. I had a plane ticket to see the love of my life. And I was going to be in New York City for 5 days and hold hands and kiss and make sweet, sweet lovin' to THE BOY!
I start purchasing cute undies and bras (stuff I didn't really have much of at that time, being Mormon and such). I'm at the gym like 4 times a week. I make appointments for waxings and facials. I'm trying to accrue new tops and jeans and shoes and sweaters (NYC in the fall!) little by little. I am seriously planning out outfits weeks in advance for this trip.
October 1st hits. A little more than 2 weeks away from flying out. I am on the threshold of LOVE. However, I'm a little nervous. Because we have barely talked and his texting has been on his own schedule, I don't know if I'm ready to go to New York, see him for the first time since we were 19, and have sex with him. I have only ever had sex with my husband. Yeah.
So I text him that I really need to talk, please. And it's important.
The next few days were eye-opening to say the least.
End of Part 5