Fighting temptation

Desperations and Unanswered calls

 I closed the door behind me and heart thumping slid down the door and sat on the floor. That's what you get for being too forward. Why had he hesitated?
My skin was flushed and I could still feel his hands on my body,  his caresses on my skin, his kisses, his scent. I groaned and got up. I needed to cool off real fast.

A cold shower later I felt like half my old self. I know I had behaved like a little child hightailing like that. But if I had stayed for an explanation I would have probably died of frustration and desperation. I wasn't even mad at him. I was embarrassed. Embarrassed because even now, thinking about it, I would still proposition him. I would still beg him to come to my room with me. Does that qualify as begging?

I went to the living room and picked up my phone from the floor. He had tried to call. Twice. I will let him stew on that. Make him think I was mad for a while. Everything throughout the day had pointed to me spending the night wrapped in his arms but then he just had to hesitate. There is nothing worse than a woman in a room alone, thinking about a man. It makes you stupid, paranoid and makes you feel desperate.

Here I was with too much time on my hands, with my thoughts turned to the fact that things hadn't gone according to plan. He wasn't supposed to hesitate. What was that? Did he think it would make me want him more? It worked, I screamed at the empty room.

It worked because now I needed him as my next breath. He wanted me too. I had felt it in how he throbbed next to me. In his quivering touch. Here we go again. I am getting all hot and bothered again and I don't think a cold shower would do the trick this time. I wonder what he is doing now. He was definitely not down at the parking lot. He probably just went to someone else for his release. Men like him would have plenty of those. I caught myself before I could tumble into a fit of jealousy. I had no right to know who or what he was seeing.

I should probably do the same.  Find someone to warm my bed tonight. I looked through my phone and the only name that could be potentially tempting was Eugene. And I wasn't drunk enough to try sleeping with an ex who had hurt me. I switched the TV on and back off and decided to go to bed.

Five minutes on my bed made me spring up in realization.  That's it. Probably the reason he had hesitated was because of Eugene. They were friends after all. He probably felt loyal to their friendship I thought my head hitting the pillow. Men were so weird. They would never be loyal to a single woman but they wouldn't hesitate to help their fellow man.
I remembered how many times Eugene's friends had lied to me about his whereabouts. Friends that should have let me know about him and Cornie or the others.

But they all just kept quiet. The bloody bastards.
I hit my pillow a couple of times to make it comfortable.  Why was I still angry about this?
But anger was good. It stopped me from thinking about other things, other people that were slowly turning into an obsession. As I drifted into sleep I knew I would call him first thing in the morning.  But I needed my wits when I did. I needed to take my power back and control this thing that we were getting into.

                              ***
Sunday mornings are meant for relaxing. Having breakfast while soft music plays in the background. prancing around my apartment in my short shorts and an old t-shirt I knew this was not like other Sundays. I would certainly not be relaxing before I called him.

I glanced at the phone to see if he had called. The phone was dry as a bone. I promised myself I would call him back at 11:00am. It was part of the taking power thing. The controlling how things evolve from here mentality. I made breakfast that I was too nervous to eat. All the while I was trying to come up with the words I would use. At 10:59 the phone was glued to my ear as I contemplated the words I would say to him
'Hey Kev, How are you?' too cliche
'Can I see you ?' Too vague
'Can you come over?' too desperate.

Ok, I will just say hey and we go from there. I though and waited for the phone to ring.

'Sorry, the mobile subscriber cannot be reached.'
What the hell. His phone was switched off. Why would his phone be off? Unless he didn't want to see me, the small voice of doubt.

I rang him again an hour later, then at three and finally at six. He never did call me back, or switch his phone back on.