After being ignored by him for four days, I yelled a little, bawled a little, slept a little, complained a lot, and then for revenge (and my sanity) blogged about it. Thank you all for your words of support! As Sheryl Crow knows, the first cut is the deepest.
I do still have his number, and as WaterSea suggests, I could take out even more revenge [refer to Lucky Sandy]. I won't do anything like that though. Here's why: Read more and see pictures from Therapy! [+/-]
Know those movies where the main character gets angry, mad, and upset because 'the asshole' never called them back and it turns out that 'the asshole' was in the hospital, stuck in Cuba, or chopped up and stuffed in a briefcase? And when the main character finds out, they feel doubly worse because they had put 'the asshole's phone number on an Internet dating service advertising free blow jobs? You know what I'm talking about; I'm not going to be that person.
So I'm going to do what a friend so lovingly reminded me to do, "Jase, for gods' sake, just let it go!!" That's what I'm going to do, even though I'm still left with razor rash from shaving (not my face). I've even made a list:
- Delete his number from my cell.
- Delete all text messages that happened between us.
- Apply ointment
- Take his underwear from under my pillow and burn it.
- Surround myself with friends who love me; or bloggers, I'm not picky.
1, check. 2, check. 3, ahh... check. 4, since I don't have his underwear, I just burned a napkin he used and a tape of 'Rolling with the Homies', so check. 5, check and double check! Checked twice because at Therapy on Thursday night, I was surrounded by friends and bloggers! The get-together was planned by PatCH (a moment of silence for his blog) for Greg's friend, Eugene, hailing all the way from the west coast.
Here are some scenes. More people where there, but left before I went into my snapping spree, or had unflattering pictures (you're welcome).
And it's a good night when PatCH's tongue goes on the attack...
This night at Therapy, and the late night snack (which Fash Mag Slag was just in time for), really picked up my spirits, and I only spoke about he-who-must-not-be-named twice.. or was it three times. Thanks guys.
Looking back, I'm going to say I was 'redeemed' from the night of panic. I went further than I've ever been (second base baby!) where before I couldn't make eye contact with another guy.
I think that's progress.