The Skinny

Ok, so I removed the picture of me and Bertrand with the dates we were going out and the RIP - it was a touch melodramatic even for me, but I still think its important to share that I once found a Kenny G CD in his car and it was in a Johnny Halliday CD case. Johnny Halliday is my French version of Celine Dione which I tried to explain to Bertrand and he was like "you don't like Celine Dione?"

I never said he was perfect, but I liked him anyway.

The last two weeks I have made excuses for the fact that I was hearing from him less and less. That he was tired from playing with balls and other men, that he was getting to know a foreign city and his fellow ball handlers.

So it was mostly me calling and if he picked up he sounded distracted and eager to get off the phone. As opposed to the week before that when he would call me through out the day to tell me how much I was missed, to share his day or yes, just to hear the sound of my voice. Ok, so I made the last one up but I don't care anymore, I'm like a Sex Pistol.

So then I get a text from him saying "it would be better for me if you called and texted on my French mobile only", and his French mobile was always switched off. So I called and texted on his Italien mobile to let him know and resume contact. But he never picked up when I called.

Last week I sent him a text asking if anything was wrong, I never heard back. So then I call him and he doesn't pick up. So then I become Glenn Close and resist the constant urge to call him on the hour.

Eventually, realizing that I wan't going away he picked up and got me off the phone in about 10 seconds flat. He said he would call me the next day and explain why he had "disappeared". He was so obviously not alone when I called.

So I waited for his call the next night like a coiled spring and jumped 3 metres in the air every time the phone rang. And guess what? He never called.

My dad was like "whatever you do, don't call him!" and of course I wait til my dad goes to bed (i.e watches movies in bed until 3am) and call him. And he doesn't pick up.

At this point I feel like I've eaten a shit sandwhich that I can't throw up. I sleep like half a minute and the next day try calling him again. Both mobiles are switched off. Doesn't he know who I am? Didn't get get the memo?

Later that day I get a text from him saying "sorry I've disappeared, i need some time to get my head together, I'm confused and in times like these i need to be alone. I need some more time and then I will call you. If I make you wait its because I like you and want to make sure that I make the right decision about what I want."

Isn't that hot? so right now I'm supposed to be waiting to see what he wants. If he wants me. As if! Naturally, I have switched my cell off forever.

Its obvious to me that he has met up with his ex who lives in Italy..I'll spare you the details but even though he promised I wasn't a rebound relationship because he could see himself with me forever, I'm 98.7% sure that he's spending time with her and therefore doesn't know about me anymore. So he strings me along until he decides what he wants. Awesome.

So I wrote the core friends an email because I felt like such a dildo for sending emails professing love and attaching pictures of shiny really tall happy people holding hands. The responses I have gotten have kick started the healing process.

Here are some of the highlights for you:

Ric: (Talking about Bertrand's inevitable suicide by volleyball): "Some kind of ritual death by spiking where his team mates take turns to repeatedly slam the ball into his face until the court resembles the beginning of saving private ryan. Something like that. (Tom Hanks cameo optional...)"

Andy: "The girls in my office, who know your story from the last email, are devastated... will you let me be your man? I can sing that Wham song to you..."

Christine: "God I hate the French!"

Rain: "BALLSACKS!"

Kristina: "But just think, this way you avoid freakishly tall kids, so it's really the best for all parties."

Jerry: "I wish I was there with you, a bottle of booze and a fist of meds to stroke your freshly ironed hair."

Rachel: "Did you send him that email? i hope he cries over his computer and it gets water damage, I hate volleyball."

I was going to send him this email I wrote that would make him cry. I've read and revised it so many times by now that I honestly couldn't tell if it was just the word tomato 400 times. I realized that the email I wrote to send him was really just for me to get everything off my chest. My sister "suggested" I not send him anything at all. My father agrees adding that this will make him feel "unsettled and uncomfortable." I like that.

So I won't send anything. I've switched off my phone. And I've changed my flight from Verona to the south of France.

Bertrand isn't a bad guy, he's just not terribly mature at 25 as I thought he was. He told me that his ex girlfriend was so jealous he couldn't talk to other women. "Its so nice being with you" he would tell me, "I never realized how easy a relationship could be."

I guess that makes him a loser.




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