The Marine called Saturday.

My phone rang around 11:30pm.  I hit the button to silence the ringer.  It was the call I had waited for all day.  I wanted to be unavailable to him for once in an attempt to make myself feel better. 

When the call went to voicemail, he hung up and dialed again.  I hit the button to ignore the call, sending him straight to voicemail.  Again, he made one last attempt and I let him go to voicemail.  Everytime he called back was another small victory to me.  I just wanted him to feel an ounce of what I felt on Friday night.

In the email he sent me the next day, he said, "I called you last night, but you didn't answer.  I didn't know if you were asleep or out or just mad at me."

When he called me on Sunday, I finally answered.
"I emailed you today.  Did you get it?"
"Yes."
"Did you email me back?"
"No."
"I figured you didn't."
"Why?"
"Because of how you're talking ... I swear, I was on my way out the door on Friday night.  You believe me, don't you?"
"Yes, I believe you, but if you really wanted to see me, we could have found a way."
"You've got a point, babe."  What did that mean?  That he really didn't want to see me?  I didn't want to know.  I didn't ask.  "Do you still want me to come see you at work on Tuesday?"
"Up to you.  I don't want you to come back from Tennessee early just for that."
"I'll be there.  I promise."

The plan was to go out to lunch with my favorite girls from the office.  One of the girls was on vacation but wanted so badly to meet the Marine that she wanted me to call her and she would drive in just to meet him and have lunch with us.  But I decided against calling her due to the events of Friday night. 

When I arrived to work Tuesday, my manager had called in sick--no way I could get out of the office for lunch now anyway. 
Text message to the Marine:  "Can't make it to lunch.  Can we still get together tonight?"
"Sure.  What time?"
"What time can you be at my house?"
"6pm."
"How about 7pm?  In case I get stuck in traffic."
"We'll see."

HUH?

So, with no definite time that he would be arriving, I went to finalize the paperwork for my new car and ended up at the dealership until 8pm. 

I called him when I got home.  He was spending time with his dad so we agreed he would call me once his dad had gone to bed.  I fell asleep at midnight, waiting. 

When I woke up Wednesday morning, I had a missed call from him at 12:30am. 

Wednesday was a big day.  Val and I had rounded up a group of people to go to the Cavs-Hawks basketball game that night.  I had invited and bought a ticket for the Marine, not believing he would actually show up but felt it was worth the risk on the off-chance that he would make an appearance.

As we all met up and headed to the restaurant, we began making bets on whether or not the Marine would come. 

He was the last one to arrive, but he arrived.  He was dressed nicely, smelled amazing, and got along with all of my friends.  I was happy to see him.  He was all over me all night, a little too into my personal space at times, but I didn't mind too much. 

I drove him back to the restaurant to get his car.  I pulled up next to it and parked.  He wanted to come back to my place with me.
"I don't know."
"You don't know how you feel about me anymore?"
"It's not that.  I feel the same about you, but there's a point where I have to protect myself."
"I fucked up, didn't I?"
"I don't know."
"What I did Friday ... it hurt, didn't it?"
I nodded and vigorously wiped my eyes.  Ugh, I hated how lame I was for crying, but I couldn't help it once he verbalized exactly what I was feeling.  I was definitely feeling physical pain.  It was in my stomach, in my chest.
"Come here," he said.  He put his arms around me, and I literally cried on his shoulder.  I hated how dramatic all of this was.  "You don't deserve this.  I am just causing you problems."
When I finally calmed down, he asked, "So, do you think I can come over?"
"I think you should go home tonight."
"Seeing you like this, I feel like I need to be there.  I feel like I should hold you."
"Let's just see how things go.  I want to be alone tonight."
What makes him (and every other man) think that being held by the person who is causing me  pain, is going to make me feel better? 
"Bet you wouldn't marry me now, would you?"
"How could I marry someone I can't depend on?"
"Please don't stop seeing me, Michelle.  You're still my girl, right?" 
I didn't know the answer to that question, so I just nodded.
"When can I see you again?"
"Friday."
"So, is Friday like a test?  To see if I actually show up?"
"No, I don't believe in 'testing' someone.  The more you follow through with what you say you'll do though, the more I'll trust you."
"Will you call me before you go to bed?"
I agreed.  But I just got his voicemail at 12:30am.  Strange, because I got an email from him at 1:30am saying thanks and that he had a good time that night.

I sent him a text message Thursday because I realized that all night Wednesday, he told me how beautiful I looked, and I hadn't complimented him once, outside of telling him he smelled good.  He didn't respond.  Pretty unusual for him. 

So, here we are.  It's Friday night, technically Saturday morning, about 2am, and no Marine.  I had called him at 9pm to invite him over to watch movies with us but got his voicemail again.  Every minute I sat here waiting for him to call back was painful.  I was reliving Friday nght all over again.  I couldn't believe that I let him do this to me again.

Three strikes, get on out ...