I'm going to Mexico in two days.
This is the highlight of my year, and by "year" I mean the preceding 12-month period, not the short time that 2010 has been around.
There's this man, you see, this man that I'm almost certainly completely in love with, although I would never say that out loud. (Whoops. Did I do that?)
Anyway, there's this man, and he wanted to go somewhere warm. Before he takes off for London for three months. Which is it's own story. So he tells me... "I'm either going to Mexico, or Thailand. I want to go to Thailand by myself."
Then, the next day, he tells me he's going to Mexico. Then I tell him I'd love to come, but I don't want him to take it the wrong way. Because we're not dating, you see. We're both single. We're just friends. And he says ok, he won't, but that I should have my own reasons for going to Mexico.
Which I do. I mean, I haven't left the country since the Snugglebug was conceived, and I have a serious problem with wanderlust. Also, I live in Wisconsin, and I'm being offered a trip to Mexico in motherfucken January.
That right there is a reason to go, man or not.
But he's been down there for a week, now, and he's called me every day. Also, we spent the three days prior to his departure in pretty much constant company.
But we're not dating.
Last night, the idea that I should cancel my hostel reservation and just stay with him in this beach house that his friends have rented was floated.
But we're not dating.
Also we're going to spend the last couple of days of this trip in Cancun together. Alone.
But we're not dating.
Also I was awakened by my phone notifying me of a message yesterday at 5:30 in the morning. The message was, "I can't wait until you're here."
But we're not dating.
I am crawling out of my skin here, though. I had enough to keep me busy for the last week, getting ready to take a week off of work, then Gallery Night debauchery, then my parents' 25th anniversary party. But now I'm just... waiting. Waiting to go to Mexico. Waiting to find out whether being almost certainly completely in love with someone that is playing at being unavailable is going to pay off.
Now I have nothing to do but analyze the last week and wonder to myself whether I'm completely in over my head, and this man is just really good at playing me, or whether perhaps something has healed in him, between the move to London, the sunshine, the patience.
I have nothing to do but pore every word and every expression and every inflection and wonder what is going to happen.
He called me this morning, when he woke up. I am almost certainly completely and hopelessly in love.
