After my shitty day yesterday, all I wanted to do was sleep. And sleep I did, until my phone rang at 2:21 a.m. When I say "rang," well, my ringtone is an angry cat. I try to mostly leave my phone on vibrate because that ring is loud and annoying as hell. But it cracks me up to no fucking end. Except for when it wakes me up at 2:21 a.m. on a school night.
Now, this late-night phone call (from an unknown number) could be ignored if I hadn't also received another late-night call just a couple of weekends ago. Again from an unknown number.
Something about this seems all too familiar. This has Booty Call Matt written all over it. Fuck. It's funny he should pop up now, just a few weeks after The Boy I Currently like made some crack out him and me being dirty or perverted or something.
Before that first call a couple of weeks ago, he hadn't called for probably six months. I haven't spoken to him since December or somewhere around there. And it'll be a year next month since I last saw him. Damn if he isn't fucking persistent.
I never did officially end things with Booty Call Matt, but the last time I saw him was about three weeks before I met The Boy. In fact, I asked The Boy out just a couple of days after the last time I saw Booty Call Matt. Maybe if I hadn't stopped seeing him until The Boy and I decided we weren't sleeping with other people ... wait. The Boy and I might not have even gotten to that point if I had waited to stop seeing Booty Call Matt. I think not having him to fall back on, so to speak, has made me try harder (try at all, quite frankly) with The Boy.
So anyway, I never actually told Matt I was done with him. I have my reasons for this. When I tried to do it before, I was with Whatshisfuckingface. The phone call where I told Matt I couldn't see him any longer was 45 minutes of him begging -- "Just let me come over one last time. I just want to see you one last time. What am I going to do without my favorite Uptown girl? *gag* I just want to kiss you one last time. I just want to say goodbye." It ended with him just showing up at my house. Well, that's not exactly how it ended. Because it never ended. I didn't stop seeing him.
That experience is the reason I opted for just trying to ignore him this time around. It took a long time for him to stop calling -- like five months. There were many 10-30 call nights in the first couple of months. Thankfully, he never just showed up at my place. I was pretty surprised because he'd been pulling that shit for months. But the calls tapered off. I suppose I should have known he might crop up again at some point.
I think enough time has passed that I can actually have the "Dude, it's over," conversation with him now. I'm not going to be giving in to his begging or anything this time around. Besides, I don't see him pulling that shit after all these months. Then again, I kinda figured I'd heard the last of him a while ago. We had our fun for three fucking (ha!) years, but that thing ran it's course. People knew me as the girl who managed to have a (somewhat) healthy and (somewhat) normal casual relationship for three years. That's not something you want to be known for, no matter how awesome people think it is. And quite frankly, aside from the occasional clinginess, the occasional psycho/stalking moments and the one time he slept here, it was pretty awesome. But I outgrew it.
Of course, if he doesn't call at a decent hour, I'll just keep on ignoring him. I will only break up a booty call relationship that ended a year ago for me before bar time, thankyouverymuch.