It’s confession time again. I love confessing because I always feel lighter and freer afterwards, but I also hate it because sometimes the things that I confess are just downright embarrassing. For instance…
Once again I have not been writing as much as usual because someone found out about my blog and I felt a noose tightening around my neck and stifling my voice. Even though he told me that he wouldn’t read my blog anymore, I’ve decided that either way, I don’t care. I’m going to write anyway.
By the time I found out that he had read my blog he had already read about six month’s worth of posts and he found out a lot more than I think he ever really wanted to know about me. Oh well. That’s his problem. I can’t let that hold me back.
So to get you caught up I’m going to do a little confessional updating.
First of all I have still been seeing EB about once a week. Why? Well, after we had our little chat I thought that maybe there was still hope for him. It was kind of funny because I was very honest with him and promised that I would continue to be honest about the things that he was doing that could hurt or hinder a relationship. One day we were hanging out watching television and he was talking incessantly which drives me insane. I had about enough so I just looked at him sternly and held up one finger to hush him. It worked. He smiled and said “See, that’s what I need!” After that I had no problem telling him to shut up or be quiet.
I love talking with him, but sometimes, especially when trying to watch a tv show or movie, I want to pay attention to what I’m watching. Otherwise, what’s the point of watching it? I still have other issues with him, but he’s a work in progress.
The next confession is that I was talking to Manwhore again a few weeks or so ago and he talked me into coming to see him. We were supposedly going to finish the video of his tour that we had started last year. I took the train down one evening and after being an hour and a half late the train finally arrived in his city. I took a cab to his apartment and he came downstairs and paid the driver. I didn’t think much of it until we got upstairs, but he didn’t even bother giving me a hug or kiss or anything. He just started telling me that he had a pizza in the oven and talking about some other bullshit. When he came back into the room I was able to get him to stand still long enough to say hello to him. He said hello and then attempted to hug me. It was a sad excuse for a hug, especially when he had begged me to come down and see him and we hadn’t seen each other in a while.
After the pitiful hug we ate the pizza and then watched tv until he fell asleep. I tried to sleep, but I felt so uncomfortable just being there that it wasn’t easy. I woke up at 6:00 a.m. the next morning and got up to get something to drink. He woke up too and when I got back into the bedroom he asked if I was going to stay or go home. WTF? I just got there and he’s telling me to go home already? He’s fucking insane! Ok, technically he’s bipolar, but still, he’s on meds now and he’s the one who begged me to come down there in the first place. How could he do this to me, again? He said that it was uncomfortable enough as it was and he didn’t see any point in my staying.
I asked him if he was going to drive me back home like he had promised. I asked mainly because besides his promise, I really didn’t feel like sitting on the train for three hours again. His rudely toned response was “I’m not driving you home today. You can just stay here if you don’t want to take the train.” What an ass, but I already knew that didn’t I. Silly me. Why do I keep putting myself through this?
I was pissed off so I told him I’d get dressed and he could just take me to the train station. It was 6:30 am and the train leaves at 7:00 am. He got me there just in time and before I got out of his car he handed me $25 for the train ticket (FYI: it wasn’t enough). I asked if he was at least going to wait and make sure that I got a ticket and he said he would go park and wait. I didn’t say goodbye or anything else to him. I went inside and got my ticket and then got on the train because it was already boarding and about to leave. Once I was settled in on the train I sent him a text that simply said “bye.” He replied back “bye.” He didn’t even apologize. This pissed me off even more. I sent him one last text that said “Don’t bother me anymore. I can’t keep doing this. I’m going to puke now.” Maybe the part about going to puke was a little over the top, but it was true. After he told me that morning that he basically wanted me to go home I became physically ill. It was probably just from knowing that I had been stupid and fallen for his charms yet again. Never again though. I haven’t talked to or heard from him since. Thank God.
So, yeah, that’s pretty much how the beginning of my 37th year on this planet has gone. My stupidity continues, as does my never-ending quest for love & sex.