they say you can never go home again: part I

My first weekend back in the U.S. was a doozy. More specifically that Sunday was a memorable day. However, the term memorable doesn’t serve as the optimal word to best summarize the events. There are a host of words and feelings whirling through my being.

In order for you to assist in my quest for the perfect single word summary, sit back and enjoy the tale…

My holiday was a bit longer than that of my traveling companions because I had a wedding to attend in the Mile High City. Rather than return to the Texas heat and humidity on Friday afternoon, I returned home to my comfy, fluffy king sized bed and square footage I can stretch out in.

On my drive from the airport, I felt strongly compelled to call Montana Man. (Important Note: I did not tell Montana Man about my overseas holiday!) Montana Man does not say hello upon answering the phone; instead I am greeted by “where the hell have you been!?” said with a strong dose of worry and anger. I was not prepared for him to have any emotion. With my party line already prepared, I respond, “I had to jump off the grid for a bit. I needed the break without world distraction.”

He was unfazed. Obviously Montana Man had been practicing his tirade, “I have been worried sick about you. I am so mad at you right now. How could you just disappear like that without a single word? Do you understand that you are in Texas, all by yourself and I worried about you? That something happened to you and you were alone. You could have had an accident and been in a hospital alone. Your phone was off. You weren’t on instant messenger. You didn’t respond to email. I even emailed you at work. I almost sent an email to your father. Your father. Do you understand the gravity of that? That is how worried I was about you.”

Caught completely off-guard, I tell him, “I am sorry that you were worried, but I needed to disappear for a bit.” “The least you could have done, should have done is tell me that you needed to disappear. I would have respected that.” My brain kicks in, “Do you know how many times you caused me great worry. I can tell you the number of times I reluctantly went to your house, afraid I’d find a dead body. I worried about you a lot. So now we are even.” All he could muster was a “this is different.” I am simply thinking to myself since when do I owe him any explanation for any of my whereabouts? We go weeks without talking now, so something pretty big must have happened while I was away. To discover what he needed from me while I was gone, I inquire about the girls. “They are okay. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am mad at you.” The conversation ends with Montana Man saying he will call me later.

Of course on the drive home, I could not stop thinking about how off the mark I was naively believing he’d barely notice I was missing. So not expecting that. And why the lecture about worry? Since when does he possess care and concern about me? I write it off to reason #3,573 why men are weird.

Montana Man calls me later that evening while I remain delirious from zero sleep since stepping foot on the plane the day before and he inquires if he is accompanying me to the wedding. My response is either way, he can come if he wishes or not. He is clearly taken aback by my laissez faire attitude. The call ends with another “will call you tomorrow” from him.

Friday night I attend the bachelorette party, which is a travesty with the bride not wanting to do shots and being afraid to approach men to complete the items on her scavenger hunt list. All the girls in attendance were in their early-to-mid 20s and quite unfriendly. Only one gal would speak back to me. I called it quits at 10 PM, blaming it on jet lag whereas in reality I was tired of being odd chick out.

to be continued...