Two Minutes Walking...

two minutes running. I did this for 45 minutes tonight. I was running off frustration, and sadness, and even a little confusion. So remember when I said I was healing? Yea, maybe not 100%. But I'll back up.

For months and months, it's been about nothing but trying to get pregnant. And then I was, and then I wasn't. And when I wasn't, it was about healing and waiting. But there wasn't much to focus on. And then there were some distractions of the male variety.

One who I said I would be kicking to the curb (or trying to, at least -- yea it didn't work) and one completely new one. How fun! And just as quickly as I got sucked in with both of them -- all long distance -- it ended. They got bored? They had other commitments? Who knows....all I know is I felt like I got punched in the stomach. Twice.

E (the new one) -- whatever. It was a fun distraction. No feelings, no expectations, though if it ever actually panned out, wow! But J. I know, I know. J.

J of Baltimore texted me last week and reeled me back in. And I felt like I was in the power position. I really did. How silly of me. I told him that I wanted one night, no drama, no distractions, no other commitments or client meetings. One night. Falling asleep and waking up. And he agreed, he would make it happen.

When we talked later that same night, I told him now was the perfect time. No injections, no pills, no hormones, no doctor appointments. My body, which has been betraying me for all these months and months, I just wanted to use it for something I knew it could do. I wanted to feel like a woman, I wanted to feel like a wanted woman.

I wasn't quite that dramatic with him, but he got it. I thought. I went in on Monday for my blood work. Last week it had dropped more than 300 points to 71, so logic and math would dictate that I should be back to 0 this week. Apparently my body can't even do logic and math. My hCG level was still up -- 19.

So another week of waiting. Another week of not knowing. Another week of limbo. But...I had a distraction. I had something to look forward to. I texted him the results and told him we had about a three-week window to try to get together.

And the text I got back was very formal (for us) and not very warm. "Sorry Linc (he calls me by my last name, sometimes), I'm slammed at work for the next couple of weeks. I'll mail the baseball to you." (He had gotten a baseball for my nephew.)

I ignored him. I had a friend over for dinner, we were finishing off a bottle of wine, my low tolerance had me completely buzzed. He texted again, and we went back and forth. I told him I wanted to talk to him. He said tomorrow.

I cried myself to sleep, mostly from the wine, I'm sure. But also because I got distracted. I lost focus. I shouldn't let boys get to me this way. Even boys who I have had an undeniable mutual physical attraction with for almost 10 years. Even those boys. And especially boys that I'm not supposed to have feelings for.

And unfortunately, J falls into both of those categories.

And so tonight at the gym. I started walking for four minutes, running for two. And I replayed the past week in my head, reread the texts and e-mail exchanges, recalled the phone conversations, and just wanted to run. Suddenly, four minutes was too long of a wait to run again. And after about 15 minutes of that four-two, I started running after two minutes of walking. And then I started running after one minute of walking.

Anything to tire me out. Anything to help me sleep tonight and not think about the boys in my life and why I let them get to me like this.