Tower of Power

I wasn't going to blog about it, but I had nightmares about it and I can't get over my own stupidity... or maybe it's his own stupidity, so I'm blogging. I went on a date Saturday. The only reason it was a date is because he paid. That constitutes a date right? Paying? What the heck is a date anyway? Just the asking and the paying? Anyway, he had concert tickets and tickets to Six Flags. He picked me up, we got there and rode a ride, one I wasn't particularly thrilled about riding but did anyway. While waiting to ride the Superman Tower of Power he procedes to ask me questions. Not just any questions, but ones like, "what's your worst break-up" and whatnot. Are you serious? He knows what my worst break up is. So thus begins a whole series of questions that I am obviously not very willing to answer due to the fact that he is digging for information I am not willing to give because it's none of his business. We've only talked three time!!!! What was he doing?!?!?! When I'm ready to tell you about It, I will. Don't try to fish for information that isn't yours to catch. Gosh. So I'm feeling really accosted and attacked, really, and here we are, it's time to get on the ride. Let me tell you about the ride.

This ride takes you straight up into the air, feet dangling, plumets you to the ground and back up again - stops - and back up again, and again, all at random. You are at it's mercy. Completely at it's mercy because you don't know when it will move or what direction it will take you. I can handle roller coasters. But I HATE heights. HATE THEM. Let me repeat for emphasis. HATE THEM. HATE HATE HATE. The second we left the ground I regretted ever setting my butt on the seat of the Superman. The only time in my life I have ever been in hysterics has been my senior year of high school when I had a panic attack... I went running to relieve stress and needless to say it didn't help. I made it worse, I couldn't breathe, I got scared, scared turned to panic and so on. I had to go to the hospital. It took everything in me on Saturday to not go into hysterics. I think I was already in a emotionally heitened state and then we got onto that stupid ride and it scared me to death... I didn't trust him, I didn't trust that machine yanking me throught the air and I nearly lost it, literally. I had to mentally go somewhere else. I think that that's almost sad because I got to thinking about it and I realized that in the past three years I have done that alot. I have had to escape mentally because I couldn't handle it. I couldn't deal.

Superman flinging me around and him laughing the whole time and the knot in my stomache getting tighter and tighter and being at the mercy of him and the mercy of the ride and the whole situation... it may not sound to some people like such a big deal, but let me tell you it was aweful. But of course, me being who I am, I played if off, like it was all o.k. because that's what I do best. I practiced that well over three years. Got real good at it.

We went to eat afterwards, just to make things worse, he drove me home, I opened the car door, told him thanks and that it wasn't necessary to walk me to the door. He said it was o.k. he didn't mind.

"It's really ok." I said.
"No, I'll walk you to your door." he says.

Really? Fine. Since you can't take a hint. We walked to the door, I already have my door key out and in hand, we approach the door, I have my key outstretched and am putting it into the keyhole... am facing the door... am turning the doorknob... and I feel this arm around me... ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!?!?!? I turn half way around, and he is attempting to give me a hug. Give me a break. Have I given you permission to touch me? No. Have I even given you the slightest signals that that was even desired? NO. So shove off!!!!!

And he called last night. I did not answer the phone.