#trending

It was Friday, around 6pm, and I was finally home; ready to wind down from a long week. While hooking my phone up to the charger, I noticed a missed call from a number I didn’t recognize. Then, a text message from the same number read: “Hey, it’s ___. Call me back.” A few squeals, deep breaths and chants of “OMG” later, I gathered up the nerve to return the call. “Hey, how are you?” I said calmly, hoping my giddiness could not be detected. It had been over a year since I spoke to him and years since I saw him. It was my very own, Mr. Big.

Ladies, you know who I’m talking about. He’s that one guy we can’t quite shake; whether it be the emotionally unattached challenge, the bad boy, the “baby boy,” etc. He’s the one we let get away with far too much. The one we constantly claim we’re so over, but eagerly pick up every unknown number hoping it may be him. The one that will make us cancel all other plans at the drop of a dime. Yup, it was him. We “talked” in college, but things never got serious. He would constantly accuse me of playing hard to get, but let’s just say he was popular on campus and I was not looking to play the fool. However, there was just something about him that was so sexy. He had a rugged charm that could make me melt at just the sound of his voice. After school, I secretly hoped our paths would cross again.

He called to tell me he was in town, and he wanted to see me. “What are you doing tonight?” he asked smoothly. “I don’t know yet,” I lied, trying not to sound too available. He proceeded to ask me to come to his hotel. “Your hotel?” I responded, somewhat offended. Then came, “I mean we can go out to eat or something … whatever is nearby.” Blinded by my excitement, I agreed. As I waited for him to call back with the details, I texted one of my girlfriends; gushing about how Mr. Big was in town. “Make him drool girl,” she wrote back. And that’s exactly what I intended to do.

Like a mad woman, I searched my closest for a fly outfit, worked a miracle on my hair and pulled out the special occasion MAC. Then, as I anxiously waited for his call, something happened. It got late. It was now 9pm and I was growing impatient. Reluctantly, I called for an update. Apparently, he decided to go to get his hair cut and would call me when he got to his hotel. Oh, and he was going out that night with some friends, but wanted me to come by before he hit the town. The nerve of him. I was now all dressed up with no place to go because, like a loser, I prematurely canceled my other plans. This was so not me. But then again, this was so him. He was up to his same old tricks. The same games that made me turn him down years ago.

After my protest, he insisted I call him the next day when I was available. The following day, the same routine occurred. I asked myself “Why do I even care?” I wanted him to see how much I matured since college, you know, “make him drool” and really just catch up. Yet, it seemed he had other plans in mind. Who did he think he was? And more importantly, who did he think I was? I knew there would never be anything meaningful between us, so what difference did it make whether we saw each other or not anyway? Or, maybe there was a small part of me that naively hoped there could be.

I went about with my plans that day knowing I could expect a call from him later that night. As I expected, my phone began to vibrate around 1:30am. It was the final straw. Irritated at the fact that he expected me to hop up and come see him that late, I put my phone on silent and rolled back over to sleep. It felt so good to see his name appear on my phone and ignore it without a second-thought. In the morning, I woke up to a couple missed calls and texts. I knew that may be the last time I heard from him, and I was ok with that. I remembered a situation I had confronted him about back in school, where he responded, “Man, the past is the past.” These words could never be truer. I guess I had matured since college. Back then I thought I deserved to be treated better, and now I knew I did. After years of holding onto my Mr. Big, I finally let go.

Like Us On Facebook Follow Us On Twitter
  • ceecee

    I agree binky! Carrie should have ended up with Aidan…nice guys should NOT finish last.
    Great article that hit really close to home.

  • Lexie

    Thanks Clutch, great article. I’m still struggling to get my “Mr. Big” out of my system but knowing I’m not alone out there in this fight helps.