(no subject)
Well, I just wrote an essay I hope to publish called, "Dating is Traumatic." I think I need a better title, but the title will be easy to fix.
Dating is traumatic. I've been hearing from Michael, though I'm growing disheartened by his lack of commitment to getting together. He suggests we get together, then he doesn't make any plans with me. On Saturday, he texted me out of the blue with "Hey! How are you doing? When ate [sic] you in Denver today?" Then he wrote, "I'm doing alright. Drive [sic] my rookie [meaning roommate...sic haha] to the airport early this morning so I was checking to see if you were bored before you went to Denver, but I guess that train passed." And then we chatted for a bit and that was it. I found out that he was a bit concerned about going snowboarding on Sunday because he'd injured his shoulder snowboarding the time before.
So today I texted him first, asking, "Have you made it back in one piece?" And we chatted for a bit before he asked about my weekend and then said, "Nice to hear. We'll have to grab another drink soo son you can tell me about it!" Then I said, "I agree! What does your schedule look like?" He said, "I have to check once I'm in the office." We chatted just a bit more, and then it left off. I haven't heard back from him about his schedule and I'm totally confused. I feel as though he should have texted me when he got to the office.
If I get really desperate and feel the need to text him as a means of retaining my sanity, I'm going to go with Quinn's brilliant suggestion: text him a picture of a drink. But Jesus, I just want him to text back without prompting him. I know he's super busy, but I'm a bit tired of people not just taking care of the things like this. I'm dreading another Bobby incidence wherein I get all optimistic only to realize the guy is full of shit.
Michael did text me the day after our date, as he said he would, so he gets a point for that. I'm totally confused, though. I'm probably totally overreacting. I just feel that if you're really into someone, you get back to them as soon as you can-unless you're playing it cool, then you just torture that person as long as humanly possible without convincing the other person you're a total asshole and ruining your chances with him or her. Unfortunately, I'd rather him be torturing me than blowing me off.
I'm going to try and ignore this for now.
I had a nervous breakdown yesterday about John. He didn't double check the boxes that he brought his father and brother down to help him pick up from my parents' house (he no longer has a car), so he carelessly grabbed a box of my files. I had to call him about this because John suggested my father drive up to the bike shop to get my box for me, leaving it up to my already-agitated father to rectify the situation. John said his father didn't want to turn around, so he just told John that he'd throw my files out. This is when I started to cry on the phone. His father's regard for my box was such a representation of how his parents have always treated me: as a piece of trash that they'd readily dispose of before inconveniencing themselves with it at all. I told John I was pissed off, and John said not to be pissed off at his father; then he said I could be pissed off at his father because he didn't have a good relationship with his father-totally a dismissal of my right to be mad at the way his father treated me. After how long my parents have held John's shit in their house, after how much my parents had helped John out, his father would throw away one box that they took from my house (THEIR FUCKING FAULT). Anyhow, John even started the conversation in a rage, angry at a voicemail I left for him earlier, telling him that he needed to figure out something besides my father going to the bike shop. He said he'd ship my stuff to me. Also, when i asked how he was doing, he told me he was "being as reckless as ever." I felt so moved by talking to him that I missed him, despite the fact that he treated me abominably yet again. So much sentimentality returned for me, for some reason.
Then I broke down when I had to go through a few more boxes my father found containing engagement stuff and folders full of plans John and I had. Then I found more of John's stuff. I tried to write to John, but he was totally remiss in his answers, causing me to realize he was probably drunk or stoned (he said he was going to hang out with CJ when I spoke with him earlier), that he just didn't want to deal anymore with getting his stuff from my house-it's ridiculous how much effort he thinks he's put in-, and he just doesn't really care very much anymore. He's not like me.
It took me a few hours to get over it. My father was not comforting at all; I think I realized that he doesn't know how to be. My mother came downstairs to where I was having my nervous breakdown-against the wall separating the kitchen and living room. She was actually very comforting. She went through my stuff for me, rubbed my back, and threw out all of the stuff John and I had together, including engagement cards. I didn't want the engagement cards thrown out, but in retrospect, I'm glad they're gone. He's such a douche bag.
-Leah says that Michael has until tomorrow or Wednesday to text his availability back, "because guys are weird like that."-
Alright...I think it's time for me to go home and work out. I haven't read much this past week. I need to get back on the reading wagon.
Dating is traumatic. I've been hearing from Michael, though I'm growing disheartened by his lack of commitment to getting together. He suggests we get together, then he doesn't make any plans with me. On Saturday, he texted me out of the blue with "Hey! How are you doing? When ate [sic] you in Denver today?" Then he wrote, "I'm doing alright. Drive [sic] my rookie [meaning roommate...sic haha] to the airport early this morning so I was checking to see if you were bored before you went to Denver, but I guess that train passed." And then we chatted for a bit and that was it. I found out that he was a bit concerned about going snowboarding on Sunday because he'd injured his shoulder snowboarding the time before.
So today I texted him first, asking, "Have you made it back in one piece?" And we chatted for a bit before he asked about my weekend and then said, "Nice to hear. We'll have to grab another drink soo son you can tell me about it!" Then I said, "I agree! What does your schedule look like?" He said, "I have to check once I'm in the office." We chatted just a bit more, and then it left off. I haven't heard back from him about his schedule and I'm totally confused. I feel as though he should have texted me when he got to the office.
If I get really desperate and feel the need to text him as a means of retaining my sanity, I'm going to go with Quinn's brilliant suggestion: text him a picture of a drink. But Jesus, I just want him to text back without prompting him. I know he's super busy, but I'm a bit tired of people not just taking care of the things like this. I'm dreading another Bobby incidence wherein I get all optimistic only to realize the guy is full of shit.
Michael did text me the day after our date, as he said he would, so he gets a point for that. I'm totally confused, though. I'm probably totally overreacting. I just feel that if you're really into someone, you get back to them as soon as you can-unless you're playing it cool, then you just torture that person as long as humanly possible without convincing the other person you're a total asshole and ruining your chances with him or her. Unfortunately, I'd rather him be torturing me than blowing me off.
I'm going to try and ignore this for now.
I had a nervous breakdown yesterday about John. He didn't double check the boxes that he brought his father and brother down to help him pick up from my parents' house (he no longer has a car), so he carelessly grabbed a box of my files. I had to call him about this because John suggested my father drive up to the bike shop to get my box for me, leaving it up to my already-agitated father to rectify the situation. John said his father didn't want to turn around, so he just told John that he'd throw my files out. This is when I started to cry on the phone. His father's regard for my box was such a representation of how his parents have always treated me: as a piece of trash that they'd readily dispose of before inconveniencing themselves with it at all. I told John I was pissed off, and John said not to be pissed off at his father; then he said I could be pissed off at his father because he didn't have a good relationship with his father-totally a dismissal of my right to be mad at the way his father treated me. After how long my parents have held John's shit in their house, after how much my parents had helped John out, his father would throw away one box that they took from my house (THEIR FUCKING FAULT). Anyhow, John even started the conversation in a rage, angry at a voicemail I left for him earlier, telling him that he needed to figure out something besides my father going to the bike shop. He said he'd ship my stuff to me. Also, when i asked how he was doing, he told me he was "being as reckless as ever." I felt so moved by talking to him that I missed him, despite the fact that he treated me abominably yet again. So much sentimentality returned for me, for some reason.
Then I broke down when I had to go through a few more boxes my father found containing engagement stuff and folders full of plans John and I had. Then I found more of John's stuff. I tried to write to John, but he was totally remiss in his answers, causing me to realize he was probably drunk or stoned (he said he was going to hang out with CJ when I spoke with him earlier), that he just didn't want to deal anymore with getting his stuff from my house-it's ridiculous how much effort he thinks he's put in-, and he just doesn't really care very much anymore. He's not like me.
It took me a few hours to get over it. My father was not comforting at all; I think I realized that he doesn't know how to be. My mother came downstairs to where I was having my nervous breakdown-against the wall separating the kitchen and living room. She was actually very comforting. She went through my stuff for me, rubbed my back, and threw out all of the stuff John and I had together, including engagement cards. I didn't want the engagement cards thrown out, but in retrospect, I'm glad they're gone. He's such a douche bag.
-Leah says that Michael has until tomorrow or Wednesday to text his availability back, "because guys are weird like that."-
Alright...I think it's time for me to go home and work out. I haven't read much this past week. I need to get back on the reading wagon.