"You, blew me off, yesterday, so I'm going to blow you off, today." That is how the conversation went in my head.

I was going to get even. Girlfriend had taken a day off from me, yesterday, and had not come into town to visit, so my feelings were hurt. And when my feelings get hurt, I get pissed off. Some counselor along the way told me that men don't like to have hurt feelings; it's not masculine, so they get angry, which is supposed to be macho. Getting angry landed me in jail, sober, once. I can't afford to be macho.

Girlfriend was supposed to come in town, today, also. I figured that she would blow me off again, so I sulked. I didn't answer two phone calls from her in the morning. I didn't open the email that she sent me. Around three pm, she called three times. I didn't pick up the phone.

The voicemail ringer sounded on my cell phone. I figured that I would dial in and find her screaming at me. Wrong. The first message from her was a weak and loving, "call me, please." The second one said that she was about ten minutes from my abode, but wouldn't show up, if I didn't call her back. This is one of her pet peeves: she won't just show up at the apartment. I figure that, in the past, she caught one or several lovers with their pants down. I don't plan on having my pants down with anyone but her, but I can understand where she is coming from and sort of understand her position. I mean, she is not saying cheat, but she is saving herself from that sort of sad, embarrassing and demoralizing experience. Maybe. I mean, I'm not really sure why she does this, why she just won't show up at my door.


Maybe I'll ask her, when she gets here. I just called her. All is cool. She is on her way over. She is not blowing me off, today. I love this woman; I really do.