So last night I hop on a train to head down to see Tat. It’s about 7 something and Adam’s just woken up and fixen to get his coffee and start getting ready for work. So we’re texing back and forth and then….nothing.
Send a few “hey you there?” messages….um….hello? Ok so …he got busy. He got a call. He….had to wrangle the cats. He….*shrugs*. Ok…I’m not THAT insecure…it’s all good. Get to Tat’s and he’s now firmly at work by the time we’re settled in. So I set my alarm clock for midnight and 4am like I have for the last 4 and change weeks since we started talking so I can chat a few minutes with him on his breaks.
Midnight comes. Nothing. Hmmm….slight worry ….but Ok. Fall back asleep….4am. Nothing….this is not like the boy. What the hell is going on? Ok…let’s check on him at 7 or so when he’s due to get home. Cell…nothing. Home phone…nothing. Now I’m starting to worry. Is he dead in a ditch? Did he go out to breakfast? Did he leave early to get started celebrating a birthday? What the hell???
Tat, being the lovely sister she is, tells me get your stuff…we’ll leave early for six flaggs and go to his house, but call Daddy and see what he says. He says it doesn’t sound like him to not have been in contact so….go with my gut. Tat and I get in the car and now we are both going to kick his ass if he’s not passed out on the floor at home (which I’m praying he’s not). Drive there….truck out front. Ok now how the hell are we gonna get him to answer the door. Cause let me tell you…he says people call and wake him up but I think he dreams it. It just doesn’t happen that way. Tat is screaming his name at the top of her lungs and honking the horn and I’m hiding, fearing that not only is he fine, he’s not gonna be happy we drove all the way here and are now causing a scene in his front yard.
We get inside, up to his door and she’s pounding on his front door hollaring his name. He stumbles to the door pretty much dead on his feet and VERY confused about why we are there, but allows us in dispite his unhappiness at the state the cats have left his apartment that we are now walking into. “I” could care less about his apartment. I’m hugging the boy telling him not to ever do that to me again! That I was really worried something had happened to him.
Apparently, something funky happened between our phones. He tried to message me and got nothing and assumed I was asleep. I tried to message him and assumed he had better things to do. The butthead didn’t answer his home phone when I called and I’m sure never thought anyone would be that worried about him. But he forgot he’s pretty much worming his way into the hearts of this family and we are, if nothing else, very concerned about those we care about.
Moral of the story, one girl…would be worried and wait for you to call. Two girls….we’ll be at your door.
(Note: I promised him next time I’d give him 24 hours and if I have to I’ll give him 36 incase he’s in a coma from too much work but that’s probably gonna drive me insane. This is your brain. This is your brain on insecurity.)