Well, let's not be too optimistic, kids. Let me just give you an excerpt from some e-mails I exchanged this evening and you'll get the idea:
Me: ... Trying not to cry. And he kept apologizing and telling me how cool I am-- like that's what I wanna hear from him. R U kidding me? And then the clincher, of course -- can we be friends? I told him I have a lot of friends and was not in the market for more...
... We MOVED TOO FAST? Hello? I hate talking on the phone but he was enjoying it as much as I was and that kind of makes you a little closer when you meet less than 24 hours later. And making out in the back row of the movie? That was ALL HIM, so don't tell me I'm "too physical." What kind of MAN says that anyway?! {sigh}...
Her: ... guaranteed I will have choice words about this in the a.m. I am so sorry this happened, sweetie. And this fucktard better not cross my angry ass in an alley. For reals... I will drop the hammer on his ass.
Me: Your shared rage actually warms my heart. His heart, however, I would like to rip out of his chest and play tennis with...
Her: Dude I take boxing classes now. Fucker better watch his ass...
ANGER, people. ANGER and annoyance. And a lust for blood.
Here is the good part. I am not blaming myself. I am 100% sure I didn't make a single misstep here. I am positive, for once, it has nothing to do with how I look, what I weigh, what I said or did... This is clearly a big can of crazy I did not want to open.
So good riddance to bad rubbish. And really, thanks to him for the short-lived bout of happiness because no lie, it did feel good there for a while and I needed that.








