A Story. In Parts. (V) in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

(Part 5 in a continuing series)

Finally! I’m sorry I’m so slow to update. I really need to start practicing if I’m going to do the NoMoJo or whatever the hell it is in November, right?

Aneeeeyyyway. Lordy, the notes left on my last entry were priceless! Seriously, I need to go back and read them again and again. Plus, I just have to read the entry again and again to remember the FULL [MONTY] EFFECT that the experience had on me. Wow.

If you haven’t read the series, I suggest you start from the beginning…or at least the last entry.

Where we last left off, I’d backed out of Anthony’s loft after watching him strip in my general direction. I was dazed and confused—literally. I honestly didn’t know WHAT to do at that point, but I didn’t really want to go home and go to bed. I even sent a text to TMG (which went unanswered…and that is RARE). But I finally just decided to go back to my loft and sleep it off. I mean, seriously. What the hell was THAT??

Next day I think I was hanging out with TMG when a text came through from Anthony. It said,

“Really sorry I treated you the way I did last night. I’d like to apologize in person when I get back. I feel like a total ass. Not completely unfamiliar. Have a nice weekend.”

I wasn’t really sure what to do with that. But eventually, the next day I wrote him back and basically said it was a feeling not completely unfamiliar to me either. I told him to have a good weekend and that I’d be OK with talking to him.

It took a few days (perhaps a couple of weeks? Time flies.) for us to finally get our schedules synched enough for us to talk. In fact, during that time, EXMS and I had started talking again. It was right before I left for Europe, and the only time Anthony and I could find time to talk before I left for my business trip was going to have to be right after a dinner I had planned with EXMS.

I cut my dinner short so that I could race home to talk to Anthony. I was so curious to hear what he had to say. I’m sure it was very noticeable to EXMS (perhaps one of the reasons why he rushed into the arms of another woman?). But come on. If EXMS really wanted it, he certainly wasn’t trying very hard at that point. I later found out he was already with his new chick, so it was very much worth it to speed home to talk with A.

When I arrived, I was greeted a little warily, but very much welcomed into A’s loft. He poured me a drink and then carefully started in on the most heartfelt apology I’ve ever received. He really didn’t have to, but he explained all of the things that have happened to him during the past year (divorce, sick dad, craziness, the kids, self-destruction, loss of friends, etc. etc.) and then told me that he knew it was no excuse for what he did. And he asked me several times for my forgiveness. His apology was actually quite beautiful and if truth be told, tearful.

And I explained to him my point of view about the whole thing, and that I understood a lot of it. AND the fact that I lost my fiancé over something that similar (yet different), but close enough to know in a way how it feels.

I also gave him TONS of shit about what he did. I didn’t think he remembered much, but he remembered more of it than I thought he would! He said he deserved it, and I told him that it had honestly hurt my feelings and he told me that my feelings SHOULD be hurt…he did such a bizarre and (truly) disrespectful thing.

And then he pointed to one of his paintings on the wall and told me that he wanted me to have it. He said it would make him feel so much better if I would take it home, knowing that I’ve been wanting to spruce up my place a bit (it was a very colorful and textural abstract—love the colors!).

I said NO WAY, I couldn’t take something so precious. But he insisted. In fact, he told me that the painting wasn’t complete and that he wanted me to pick out a color for him to use for his signature and the finishing touches.

So while I watched and listened to music and we talked, he put the last of the brilliant blue paint on the edges and signed his name….

And we talked and laughed and I got such squishy feelings for him (mind you, I realize that the guy is STILL married—still going through so much crap. There is a long, long way to go for him…and me too. But.). I enjoyed our time together, as brief and kind of strange as it was.

And soon I had to go home and go to bed. Work in the morning for both of us. So Anthony took the painting off the wall and walked me down the hall. When the elevator doors opened, he handed me the painting, and I kissed him on the cheek. I was hoping that I’d packed a lot into that kiss.

When I got home, I hung the painting in the most perfect spot (I’ll have to take pix at some point) and got this text from Anthony:

“That was the best and most sincere kiss on the cheek I’ve ever received. Thank you.”

And I meant it.