And so it Begins.....

Why is it that, when they finally get there, you've already left?

I waited all that time, and then, well of course. Always like that. But I can't even go there mentally. It's too much. So much wasted energy and time with no result. I made myself a promise recently, to never give to who can't give to me. I'd be telling you a bold faced lie if I said I wasn't even the least bit intrigued. Who wouldn't be? Even he knows it! I see that little number come up in my phone and, it was the strangest thing; for a second, I felt angry. I didn't even want to see it. I halfway wished he could take it back, that he would disappear. I immediately saw what was going on; I understood. I didn't want it at that moment; no more, I think.

I hate that I waited all this time and you come out (at last!) with something you need from me. I'm tired of thinking about what it is you want. Being something I don't even like because, in some stupid way, I believed this was what you wanted. I'm exhausted of dealing with you, trying to figure out your nonsense. I'm sorry all the silly girls you chose didn't materialize. I'm sorry it's obvious to you now how little you knew. I'm sorry I never saw in you exactly what everyone else could see.

You belong with those girls, love. You make sense there. And I think you will be lovely.

I simply don't care tonight.

It scares me to think, I've become this selfish. All I want lately is to lie in this apartment, completely alone with my thoughts. I only want to see my female friends. I only want to succeed at work. I'm clinging in a bizarre way to my freedom, something that, until recent weeks I didn't value the same way. Bars and clubs bore me. Parties are only fun if I know everyone. I'd prefer a million times over to have coffee with a friend then go on another date.

I'm finding you eliminate the bullshit in your life as I get back to living like I imagine other people must.    I'm not so different, am I? I'm finding I'm growing bored of all the desperation. I'm excited to just do what I want to do. Nothing big. Walking to work. Eating ice cream for dinner. Watching television. Sitting in the park for hours with a number of friends, just talking. Talking to A on the phone. Eating peanut butter and those cinnamon flavored pita chips I paid $6 a bag for. Lying on my sheets. Feeling the breeze out of my window.

I want to be happy. And for the first time in a very long time, I am. And, there is no real reason for it. I'm very fortunate. I have a million good friends and a wonderful family. I have everything I need. I'm content.

I need now, to focus. I need to master the job ahead of me. I need to sleep better. I want to do well, I really do. I know they see that.

And I'm seeing it in me. It hit me the other day, thinking actually, about you, that we have things in common I never considered. You brag about your education, and, I remembered, I now I have one, too.

Maybe I'll feel differently tomorrow. Maybe I'm just mad at you for taking so long. I see that neither scenario is productive. I can't do anything about either, and, in some bizarre way, I very much look forward to being friends.

I just haven't forgiven you yet. My biggest fear is being held captive, of giving to the point of depletion to someone who can't do the same for me. I'm a terrible caretaker for those I think can help themselves and just choose not to.

You're more scared of me than I ever was of you.