The Return of Casanova

While in one of my previous blogs I mentioned that I never laid eyes on Casanova again, that notion was premature. I actually saw him a few weeks ago. I knew ahead of time that he was going to be around, and I’m not sure exactly what I was expecting, but I am irrationally angry with the results.

And for you to really be able to understand my anger, please realize that this man invited me to Italy. I have a witness. There were so many sparks flying we should have been on display for the 4th of July. There is no way for me to be able to communicate to you JUST how much this guy was giving off the good vibes, other than to ask that you trust me. He was (I could say “is”, but I’m being childish and acting as though he no longer exists) so incredibly handsome and charming and pretty much swept me off my little naïve feet. So suffice to say that when things came to their murky and inexplicable end, I was not prepared and I was left without closure. And chicks need closure.

This was all ramping up to the day I found out that Casanova was going to be in my office. I knew ahead of time because a co-worker informed me, and I had a few days to prepare my brain for this. The last time I saw him was also in my office. And it was beyond awkward. Was it going to be different this time? Was he going to see me and instantly repent for his shysty ways? Probably not, but that’s always a possibility in the back of my mind. So the day comes and I’m emotionally punched in the gut when I see him in a suit. ZZ Top says that every girl’s crazy ‘bout a sharp dressed man, and they ‘aint lyin. Keep in mind it had been about 6 months since I’d seen him, and seeing him dressed to the nines did not help my composure. Good thing I got to see him before he saw me, because I was able to keep my reaction to a minimum. Because it’s never a good thing to let a guy that broke your heart know just how much he affected you. But when I did finally see him, it was for a company’s presentation, and I was walking into the room-  as I strode through the door, we immediately locked eyes. He took my breath away and I had to suck it right back in. Thank jeebus that moment was shortened by another person in the back of the room yelling out, “Yeah! There’s Miss Braun!”, which A) made me blush, all the while making me look cute and B) took the intensity out of the look I was having with Casanova. Not to mention it’s always nice to have another man excited to see you while you’re in a dead stare with one that done you wrong. So I made sure to sit in the back and make him as uncomfortable as possible, since he was sitting in the front row. Is she looking at me? Should I turn around? How do I look from the back? I hope these are ALL questions he was filtering through at the time.

After the presentation I hung around talking with other people and representatives from the company (with whom he had an interview, hence the suit), and we decidedly ignored each other. I wasn’t going to talk to him, and he apparently was too scared to talk to me. I know this, because every other candidate who had an interview was waiting in my office, but Casanova disappeared. I found him when I went to the break area for a water- he was sitting out there. And I know he saw me, because vending machines have reflection and he was eyeballing me. He finally came back to my area, still didn’t say anything to me, and at this point I’m pissed and I won’t say anything to him either. He spoke to everyone else, including my witness from the Italy proposal. He went in for the interview, came back out, thanked my co-workers and left. I don’t know what I was expecting. But I got angry. I hadn’t considered how I would feel if that was the way it went down. I assumed it would, but I never really thought about how emotionally compromised I would be. And I think because I let myself feel hurt, I was even angrier. Probably with myself, but at the time I directed it at him. Congratulations, scapegoat! You’ve won the grand prize of the wrath of a woman scorned!

So that’s it- the resurfacing of Casanova brought about some soul-searching on my side. If Casanova had never been a possibility, then I wouldn’t have realized what I was missing. I was in a relationship that was comfortable but not stimulating, and Casanova, though an ass in the end, was a catalyst for change. I appreciate that. So it will forever be a love-hate relationship with Casanova.  I’m grateful because he showed me the light, but I’m still bitter. Definition of petty? Probably, but I’m ok with that.