Saturday, January 21, 2006

Seeing M. for the first time in almost four months

I was a nervous wreck. Of course he doesn't ask me out to dinner or anything, why would he? In fact, as is typical, he had plans with his friends or something so we saw each other for all of an hour or two. To be a little bit fair, he's moving so I guess he wants to say all of his goodbyes, but ultimately the point is that once again I get the short end of the stick in terms of his time, care, attention and money.

Anyway, he looked hot as shit. And his smell. I really couldn't resist burying myself in his neck when he hugged me hello, can you blame me? I am totally starved for physical affection. I am being stalked by a multitude of losers, all of whom have driven me to the point of pure hatred. I never thought I would sell out and want to go out for drinks at steakhouses in Midtown and become a dinner whore but it's time. I need a hot sugar daddy who will fuck the shit out of me. But he can't be old, ugh.

Anyway, so M. is hot and just as unchanged and unchangeable as before. Again in fairness, (why am I being such an apologist?!) I did break up with HIM. As he nicely reminded me, he misses me like crazy and never wanted to break up. I was the one who pulled the plug. Fine. So I start to cry intermittenly throughout the conversation, driving him crazy as usual. He tells me that he fucked that bartender he's dating. He tells me because of course I ask like the glutton for punishment that I am. Finally, he has to leave and I don't want him to so my tears become sobs. This was always a problem--him leaving--to go back home or to even go to the store. It must stem from my daddy issues, I don't know. Psychobabble!

Finally, he walks me home and we hug, and I am softening, loving him...and then he tries to crack my back which always drove me crazy and I am reminded all over again why I broke up with him. I extract myself and walk away without so much as a backward glance.

I should have stayed home! But I dried my eyes, put on some makeup, and go out, proceeding to get absolutely BOMBED. And then I call him, babbling and screaming incoherently. I wake up the next morning goddamn ridiculously anxious, not to mention ridiculously hungover. But I feel like the previous night was a catharsis. On the one hand, I actually do miss M. more than ever. But on the other hand, I feel like maybe I can move on now. And at least have sex with someone else!

Oh yeah, it's Saturday night and I'm home along. Again.

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