My entire relationship with Michael has been drama free. There’s no skanky ex’s lurking around, no throw-down arguments had just for the sake of arguing, no dishes thrown, no break up then make up.

I don’t talk about The Crazy much, because most of the time it stays hidden deep within my head. But every now and then–because I am a woman and this is what we do–The Crazy rears it’s ugly head.

We got home from dinner last night and as I was heading upstairs to change, I heard Michael’s phone ring. When he didn’t answer it, I assumed it was his mother or grandmother. He usually has to be in the mood to talk to them.

“Your mom?” I called down the stairs.

“Nope,” he said. “It was B.”

Oh. Her.

B is a friend of Michael’s from college. A female friend. They never dated, but ran in the same circle and have periodically stayed in touch over the years. I’ve never met her.

“Why is she calling?”

“Not sure.”

“When is the last time you talked to her?”

“I don’t know…two or three years?”

“You don’t seem surprised to see her pop up on your phone after three years…”

I heard The Crazy coming out of my mouth before I could stop it. My insecurities rising to the surface, bubbling over and lacing my tone with annoyance and sarcasm. I came down the stairs and walked past him towards the bathroom.

“Are you upset?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “But I’m not sure why. Does she know [that we’re engaged]?”

“No. Molly, there’s nothing there. Never was.”

I closed the bathroom door and began washing my face. As I scrubbed, I thought about it. What was bothering me? They never dated. He said he never had feelings for her. I should believe him.

It’s not like I’m afraid he’s going to tell her he made a mistake, that he’s going to move to the Midwest and be with her. Don’t be ridiculous.  Maybe it’s the female friend thing.

Sure, I have male friends, but most of them were Michael’s friends first. And they don’t call me out of the blue. At 9:45 p.m. On a Wednesday. And why didn’t he answer the phone? Did he not want me to hear him talking to her?

I dried my face and told myself to let it go. I was being crazy. Super crazy. This man is my fiance and talking to an old (female) friend after three years isn’t going to change that.

I went to the couch and started flipping through a magazine, not paying attention to it, but just trying to look busy as I collected my thoughts. Michael came over and looked at me curiously.

“Why are your eyes puffy? Were you crying?”

“No (yes), I just took off my eye makeup (and cried) so they look red.”

I don’t think he believed me, but I didn’t want to talk about The Crazy stinging my eyes with a flash of hot tears when I heard B had called.

The rest of the night was fine…nice, actually. But it stayed in the back of my head, churning around and being a brat.

I’m not worried, I’m really not. I trust him with my whole heart and another woman isn’t going to come between us.

So why is The Crazy still hanging around today?

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