Perhaps I did learn something in all of this. If the man's got a girl just run away screaming like mad, "NOT AGAIN! NOT AGAIN! SWEET JESUS, NEVER AGAIN." I somehow doubt that will work. So now, he's avoiding me. I only have the no contact in nearly a week to go by,but something tells me, he's not going to knock on my door again anytime soon. Going on what I have seen in some typical male fashion, he got his trophy nookie and now he's got his bragging rights on a booty call. Ugh. Perhaps I might be jumping the gun by passing judgment, but it sure does seem like things are quite the mess now. Well, a mess for me I suppose. Is it too much to ask to have a bit of communication? I don't know what he's thinking. He hasn't bothered to clue anyone in on what he's thinking. Gee-whiz. I'm so happy about that I could just play in traffic now.
So what do I do now? I haven't a clue, other than mend what I have left of my pride and revisit the thought of becoming a hermit in the Rockies like Grizzly Adams or something. Shoot at anyone that comes onto the property and train black flies to carry away intruders. LOL Oh I don't know. I need to rethink the whole rebounding like a mad woman fiasco and take the advice of a friend who is a professional therapist. LIVE ALONE. LIKE LIVING ALONE. DON'T BASE YOUR LIFE ON SOMEONE ELSE AGAIN. BE YOU. BE OK WITH YOU. LIKE YOURSELF. 'N' FER FOOKS SAKE STAY AWAY FROM THE PRETTY BOYS.
Yeah, things with Java Guy went something like too much, too fast, too little, too late, and now not a damn thing to show for it but my nerves grating upon the edge of true logic and reasoning. I thought I had a good grip on the possibilities after the fact, but now I have to wonder just what the hell it was I was thinking in the long run. Grrrr. ARRG. Wuaaaaaaah! My lucky week has landed me in the middle of mono relapse due to stress. Not really his fault I took it harder than I thought I would. Throw in a rough work week of being sick and my Yahoo! Account getting stolen. Been fighting that all week long and now, I'm sitting here on a Friday night feeling rather cranky, because I'm on steroids and feeling a little bit used and discarded, disregarded, and plain ol' DISSED! What a pisser.
I mean if you tell the girl you boffed in a weird panty raid and ran out on that you're feeling pretty guilty, wouldn't you at least try to make sure that your ass was covered? Follow-up? Call? I mean if you're feeling particularly guilty? Wouldn't you do something besides hide in your figurative closet? He's lucky that I'm not like some people that I know of that would otherwise stalk, call, pester, attempt to ruin another's life, and otherwise make someone feel in fear of their life. Man, the people I know make me look quite normal!
I know I'm not crazy. Good thing for most people around me. If I didn't have the capacity to have and maintain a moral compass to not maim, kill, destroy, and otherwise become the shooter in the bell tower. YEOW! Look out. Think about all those crazy ass movies out there with murder and mayhem! Someone had to imagine that for our entertainment! Sick people out there. I'm glad I'm not one of those. I hear voices, and they don't like you. That's what I deal with in my job sometimes. No joke, it's my job. Weird.
Alas, I feel I will chalk it up as a booty call gone sorely awry and move on. It's just gonna take me some time to settle on the fact I got suckered. It'll take me even more time to get over the fact that maybe, just maybe, the pickings are slim and that maybe I should just go with plan A and move someplace remote and secluded and take up fly fishing. Ugh.
In the meantime, still talking to the Florida guy. He's still considering moving up to be with me. Not too long ago he was trying to talk me into settling in Charlotte or Norfolk or someplace not Indiana or Florida. Alas, I am here for the long run. I'm not going anywhere and well, that's that. I have a career. I have goals. I have dreams. I have hopes. And most of all, I will eventually have a life that's meant for me to happy within. I just wish I knew when! Oh well. I wrote a poem this morning. Here it is and then I'm outta here for a night of pathetic and woeful movie watching alone in the living room with camp chairs. Maybe I'll make some tea and count the dust bunnies that keep multiplying around here. Do the dishes. Do the laundry. Take a nap. Yah know, my exciting life keeps getting better and better. Here's to me getting on with my non-existent life. Yippee.
Soldier On
Shoot for the moon
Take a risk
And miss
Paint this place with a visionary brush
Walking downtown to stroll along the bustling sidewalks
Seeking inspiration while wishing for kindred company of another's soul
Like bouquets of the season
Tear drops fall from the landing's bridge
Buses roll in and out of the hub
Lovers running to and from one another
Music on a warm Friday night
Cajun, Blues, and Soul
My blues
The quiet tune that no one hears
Walking by that one last shop near the corner
Turning to make my way home through court yards and brick laid streets
Woefully alone
No one around except the old man singing for a change in scenery
Looking for that next bus ticket to move to next town
Oh where is Venus?
That random smile in the dark meant only for me?
Cupid?
Where do I find the strength to soldier on?
~T~
...So if I die today I'll be the happy phantom
And I'll go wearin' my naughties like a jewel...
I'm still an angel to a girl who hates to sin
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