A few years ago I was in a semi-relationship with a guy we will call "J". He was sweet, but also had this other personality I called "Scary J". If I made him mad, even if it was something small it was like the Incredible Hulk turning green and ripping his clothes. I would immediately start looking for the nearest nuclear fall-out shelter and hoping it had supplies to last me through winter. No, I was never scared that he would actually hurt me or do me harm in any way but OH. MY. GOD. the rage!!
While "Scary J" wasn't fun it was "Let's-Get-Married-And-Have-Babies-Right-Now J"that eventually made me pack up all the pieces of that relationship and set them on fire with gasoline. Oh, and a blow torch.
After fighting hard to get out of it (even going so far as stretching the truth and telling him I was moving out of state and making him cry) I freakin' e-mailed him a few weeks ago. Yep, I drug him back into my life. Why you ask? Because I am a woman and sometimes we just need to hear somebody, anybody say that they care. And because I'm a woman and sometimes I'm crazy.
Finally, after the longest three days of my life he e-mailed me back. It was short and to the point, nothing really astounding, but the last sentence made me smile more than I have in a long time. "I have missed talking to your mean butt". He gets me.
I have the blow torch on standby just in case.