Yesterday as I was sitting in the passenger seat with Work-Church-Friend
(WCF henceforth) driving home from my favorite house in all of Utah, as it is
occupied with my namesake, I found myself yelling, “{Good Man} and I are still
friends!” at the top of my lungs. He laughed,
hard. And I sat there, more than a
little bit astonished at the decibel and tone of my own voice. It was a bit of an out-of-body
experience. I watched an irrational girl
let loose on the innocent WCF. And then I spent three minutes attempting to
rationalize the completely irrational behavior.
Jump back three years.
I had just returned from a hide-away period of life in Indiana. Ace and I were roommates. And as he was gone most nights entertaining
people as the Man in Chair, Pete {the original} was around to cook dinner or be
that guy that was around but didn’t force me to face the entirety of life with
words, quite yet. I had been asked out
by a guy in the ward, a cute guy. I was
happy about it. But then things got
fuzzy. Pete heard the details, as much
as a man wants to hear the details, and didn’t say much. Until it became clear that I was stressed out
by cute guy in the ward and his ridiculous behavior. {Without using too many words, he was simply
indecisive and this girl was confused by his indecision, not that I was
anywhere near decided but I couldn’t even venture toward a decision without
knowing I was on solid ground and wanted by Cute Guy}. We were at the House on
the Corner, without owner, one night in the middle of all of this. And I was using my words. And Pete was listening. “Pete, I just don’t think that there are any
good guys left out there without some sort of serious issue.” He was standing
at the sink, back to me as those words flew out of my mouth. He turned around, slowly, and took a step (he’s
a tall fella and only need one) towards to counter that separated us. Hands were then firmly planted on the counter
and he met my eyes, “Kas, there are still good guys out there.” He pointed out
that he, only six months younger than I, was still single and without any of
the issues I had listed. And he was not
the anomaly, he was certain. I was not
but his conviction was enough for me to hold on to for a bit.
Jump back to yesterday, Carmen {the car} and WCF. There was no justifying the yelling that had occurred. But then WCF said something, “Are you may be
upset because he is a good guy?” He had a smirk on his face as the entire story
was not before him, just the pieces he had placed together. I put my head to my
knees, avoiding eye contact as I tried to process the yelling that had occurred
and his last question. I processed in Carmen, as well as to CA later yesterday
afternoon, and then as I sat in silence on first date with Glasses. {‘Why
silence on a first date, Kas?’ you may be asking. Fair. Well, he greeted me with a hug, told me I
looked cute and then, before we had even gotten to the car, indicated that he
was in UT looking for a wife. Which, is
a fine reason to be in UT I suppose, but LIE to me after knowing me for only a
minute and a half in J’s kitchen the night before! LIE to me! As I’m the girl
that hears that and then all of the serious conversation – there was not one
moment of light hearted conversation as much as I attempted for it - that
follows it and FREAKS OUT inside and doesn’t care how charming you are or how
dedicated you may be … I just detach and focus on earlier conversations from
the day that I hadn’t quite finished processing}. And after all of the processing here’s the
answer to the questions that WCF posed, “Yep.”
Because as sure as Pete was when he told me that ‘good guys’
still exist, I am certain of their how rare they are. There are good guys that love God but don’t
necessarily love to work. There are good
guys out there that are passionate about something but dip a bit in the naked
women viewing. There are good guys out
there that think my inability to discuss feelings is cute but they have
tempers. There are good guys out there
that find my family charming but tithing a burden. And then there is the other side of the coin,
the good guys that are thinking I’m a good girl but that loves John Krasinski
films, no matter the rating. They see
the good girl but don’t like the fact that I’m good at my job and I love
it. They see the good girl but hate that
one time I was in a ‘dark and twisty’ place.
So there are two sides to this coin, two versions of the story. And so, in the two weeks {yep, I’m dramatic}
that Good Man was in the picture I was hopeful that Pete’s statement was right
and, in complete cryptic disclosure, he was.
‘It’ just wasn’t there. And that
is frustrating, so frustrating that I scream at WCF en route home from Baby
Kace’s house. Sorry about it.
Also, Buba got married last night. Yep, that’s a fact. Which is likely why I’m writing about
feelings for a boy that no longer exists in that facet of life and not the life
event that I wasn’t included in or consulted about or made aware of until after
the fact {Queen of the Land of Passive Aggressiva, thank you McDreamy – and recognizing
the problem is the first step to fixing the problem}.
