Honestly…I suck, and so does this shit

In an effort to prove that I was willing to take a chance and move forward with my so called life, I accepted an invitation for a meet up. This guy has been trying to get me to meet him for close to a year, and I’ve been putting it off. He’s 26, lives in the city and not really all that attentive. Recently, he caught up to me again online…before I hid myself from view. We’ve texted back and forth, I’ve agreed to meet, then blown him off…but he keeps coming back and trying again. Finally I agreed to meet on a weeknight I don’t have my kids and don’t have to get up for work the next day. See, I’m putting myself out there.

He gave me a little crap about blowing him off before. Then just a few hours before we were supposed to meet, he backs out. Not feeling too well. Ok. Great…now I get to spend another night alone with myself. Fuck.

It’s been 9 days since I’ve heard from the hunky stallion. I knew my “free night” would be difficult so I agreed to our date. Now I’m home alone with a bottle of wine the computer and the tv remote. How exciting. So after checking email, and pinterest and Facebook…and 1/2 a bottle of wine, I found myself logging in to my wireless account to see if I could pull up the hunky stallions number. It wasn’t hard…I knew the last time we had any communication. Next thing I knew I was sending him “how have you been?”.

Chirp chirp chirp.

1/2 an hour later there was still no response. I feel like shit. Why nothing? I’ve left you alone for 9 whole days…not one single little “xoxo” or I miss you…or anything else a woman does when she’s trying to stay current in a man’s life. I’ve been good. I’ve been strong….I’m losing my fucking mind.

I feel pathetic. Somewhere in me I feel like a little school girl who lost her favorite doll. I’m sad and I want to cry. Ugh…this is NOT what a strong independent woman does. Geez. I need another glass of wine, but I’m out. Not that I really think that would help my situation…or even remotely make me feel better. Shit.

I honestly thought there would be something. Truth is I thought he would cave way before I did. At least I was hoping. I wanted to appear to be the women I think I am…and not the pathetic reject that I feel on the inside.

Usually on these nights I treat myself to some sort of indulgence like a greasy cheeseburger, give my self the night “off” from being the good woman that I am 90% of the time. I skipped the greasy food…headed straight home to dive in to the wine and anything else I could find to distract me. It’s obvious it didn’t work. Did I say shit already?
I’m having a crazy moment…I know it. I want to text him back, cry, drink till I pass out…but instead I write. This must mean I’ve completely lost my mind. Maybe. Maybe not.

On a side note…I broke two nails today. I need more wine.

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