"So what? I'm still a rock star. I got my rock moves. And I don't need you, tonight."
They say that the time it takes to get over someone that you've broken up with is equal to the amount of time that you were together with that person. But what if that person won't go away? I went out with Sean for just under two years. Our break up was basically one year ago this month, so if my calculations are correct, I got another year of this to go.
As you probably already know, after the initial tears, and the screaming, and the drama, the story goes that we tried that whole friend thing for a while and that worked out okay. We would see each other on and off and talk about things and at the time, I thought I would be okay. Emotionally, I was okay because he was go guilt-ridden that HE was taking the time to call me and see how I was doing. Slowly, over time, I would see/hear less from him, and still, I was okay because I was being weened, for a lack of better words.
Then, of course, as I know you know, Halloween came by and me being as self-confident, revenge-seeking, and sexually frustrated as I was, I decided that *I* would be in control. That *I* would choose how I felt and that *I* was going to tap that ass, without emotional attachment, because *I* was a badass motherfucker. *I* was flipping the script and *I* was going to use this bitch for sex. Because I could. And that worked out fine for a few weeks until I slowly realized that after a while, he started using me. HELL NO.
But before I could have the upper hand and reject him, he must have some Jedi mind powers because homeboy ended up rejecting me. Again. And the pain started all over again. I would call him and he wouldn't answer. I would text, he wouldn't reply. Myspace? Nope. Before I knew it I was kicked out of his top 8 and was being completely ignored. I will not be ignored, Dan!
In January, I decided that if I was ever going to move on from this, that I would need closure. So I wrote a letter. It was basically one giant fuck you letter of I'm-going-to-have-the-last-word-or-else and pretty much just said what was on my mind at the time. "I always knew you were kind of a selfish jerk but didn't think you were also a coward and would stoop as low as to ignore me instead of tell me whatever you needed to say to my face. Blah blah blah, more mean things, but I don't hate you or anything, so I hope you have a great life." I'm paraphrasing there, but you get the gist. And I emailed it to him. Recently, I told Annie about this and she was surprised that I sent it. According to her, you don't send "fuck you!" letters, you write them and you burn them. I guess I missed that day in Girl Boot Camp. :p
Anyway, these past few months have been a little hard, but I've been great. There would be a few times where I'd be by myself in the apartment or I'd just be lying in bed and I'd get very lonely, but I would take a deep breath, and recompose myself. I also listened to Pink's "So What" a lot. Hah. I would wonder a few times what would happen if I was to run into him in town. Would he ignore me then? Pretend he didn't see me? That would suck. So, pretty much I just kind of fantasized that when this happened, I'd be wearing some crazy sexy outfit and I'd look like Adriana fucking Lima or some shit and he'd regret all the crap he put me through, but of course I'd have a new, hotter boyfriend so he would go home and cry. Except he couldn't go home, because he was homeless. He lived in a cardboard box. And had herpes. ANYWAY, despite all this, I was moving on. I was semi-happy. And most of all, I was proud of myself that my usual Fatal Attraction tenancies were fading and that I didn't call or text or attempt to contact him in anyway after that. Go me!
And then tonight, he called me. It 1:00 am and he said that he was sorry for everything and I think he said something else but my brain could only compute "Ill keep in touch" before he hung up. I didn't say much back other than "uh-huh" and "yeah". The call lasted for less than a full minute, but it completely broke me down. I can't stop crying. Why couldn't he just have left me alone and gone on with his life? And I miss him so much that I know I'm not going to be strong enough to turn him away.
GOD. Listen to me. I'm officially one of THOSE girls.
As you probably already know, after the initial tears, and the screaming, and the drama, the story goes that we tried that whole friend thing for a while and that worked out okay. We would see each other on and off and talk about things and at the time, I thought I would be okay. Emotionally, I was okay because he was go guilt-ridden that HE was taking the time to call me and see how I was doing. Slowly, over time, I would see/hear less from him, and still, I was okay because I was being weened, for a lack of better words.
Then, of course, as I know you know, Halloween came by and me being as self-confident, revenge-seeking, and sexually frustrated as I was, I decided that *I* would be in control. That *I* would choose how I felt and that *I* was going to tap that ass, without emotional attachment, because *I* was a badass motherfucker. *I* was flipping the script and *I* was going to use this bitch for sex. Because I could. And that worked out fine for a few weeks until I slowly realized that after a while, he started using me. HELL NO.
But before I could have the upper hand and reject him, he must have some Jedi mind powers because homeboy ended up rejecting me. Again. And the pain started all over again. I would call him and he wouldn't answer. I would text, he wouldn't reply. Myspace? Nope. Before I knew it I was kicked out of his top 8 and was being completely ignored. I will not be ignored, Dan!
In January, I decided that if I was ever going to move on from this, that I would need closure. So I wrote a letter. It was basically one giant fuck you letter of I'm-going-to-have-the-last-word-or-else and pretty much just said what was on my mind at the time. "I always knew you were kind of a selfish jerk but didn't think you were also a coward and would stoop as low as to ignore me instead of tell me whatever you needed to say to my face. Blah blah blah, more mean things, but I don't hate you or anything, so I hope you have a great life." I'm paraphrasing there, but you get the gist. And I emailed it to him. Recently, I told Annie about this and she was surprised that I sent it. According to her, you don't send "fuck you!" letters, you write them and you burn them. I guess I missed that day in Girl Boot Camp. :p
Anyway, these past few months have been a little hard, but I've been great. There would be a few times where I'd be by myself in the apartment or I'd just be lying in bed and I'd get very lonely, but I would take a deep breath, and recompose myself. I also listened to Pink's "So What" a lot. Hah. I would wonder a few times what would happen if I was to run into him in town. Would he ignore me then? Pretend he didn't see me? That would suck. So, pretty much I just kind of fantasized that when this happened, I'd be wearing some crazy sexy outfit and I'd look like Adriana fucking Lima or some shit and he'd regret all the crap he put me through, but of course I'd have a new, hotter boyfriend so he would go home and cry. Except he couldn't go home, because he was homeless. He lived in a cardboard box. And had herpes. ANYWAY, despite all this, I was moving on. I was semi-happy. And most of all, I was proud of myself that my usual Fatal Attraction tenancies were fading and that I didn't call or text or attempt to contact him in anyway after that. Go me!
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And then tonight, he called me. It 1:00 am and he said that he was sorry for everything and I think he said something else but my brain could only compute "Ill keep in touch" before he hung up. I didn't say much back other than "uh-huh" and "yeah". The call lasted for less than a full minute, but it completely broke me down. I can't stop crying. Why couldn't he just have left me alone and gone on with his life? And I miss him so much that I know I'm not going to be strong enough to turn him away.
GOD. Listen to me. I'm officially one of THOSE girls.