Mr. Big

I am involved with an uninvolved Mr. Big. He knows he's a big deal. Famous (bible, people really do know him), BYU alumni (graduated cum laud), traveled the world and more recently a hot shot graduate from BYU's Law School. My Mr. Big wears nice suits, crisp ties and has a clean hair cut that says I am professional yet stylish. Together, there is a chemistry I can't explain. Everything seems to fit and it leaves me awake at night recalling every detail of the evening. I spend the entire next day dissecting the conversation and topics; I should have said this, flirted more here. Fist strikes my head. The details swirl in my head like a record on repeat.

Mr. Big came over the other night, catching me by complete surprise. For the first time, he was seeing me in my raw element. I had gone on a date the night before (different guy), so 100 combination's of shirts and pants were still on my bed. Laundry was clean, but had not been put away. I was lucky my underwear weren't on the bathroom floor or the sofa. I had been getting ready for bed when he called. He kept me on the phone and then surprise, was in my living room. We chatted for the next hour. I didn't want him to leave, knowing the next morning when I worked the opening shift I would be regretting my late night. He left with an ambiguous decision about a lunch date. I told him I would wait for his text. The text never came, nor did anything the day after.

I think Mr.Big left today to return to the life in the state he currently resides. At least he told me he was leaving Tuesday. I am his Carrie; slightly wild, unpredictable, curly mop on top and wanting someone, (him), to "stand still with". He does just enough to keep me hooked. And dang, I fall for it every time.