girlsdontcry's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Waiting for the axe to fall Knowing that something is going to be a disappointment somehow never makes it any less disappointing. Knowing that you are going to be hurt never seems to make it hurt any less. I'm trying to think about the good things about being single. I've only managed to come up with less body hair maintenance and no risk of becoming pregnant ... I've not actually been dumped yet because the person I've been seeing had to take the weekend to think about it. But you know, during the phone call that revealed all this to me, he said one of the worst things I've heard, which was that he sort of hoped that if he treated me badly enough I'd break up with him. Yeah. Aren't men great! So at some stage this week, I'll be summoned to my own execution, because he's such a nice guy that (a) he obviously didn't want to break up with me ON Valentine's Day itself and (b) he's really so thoughtful and considerate that he thinks we should talk face to face. I think I should save my money, and not waste it on a train fare. It's so weird. What do you wear to be broken up with? How do you act? Should I be angry and tip a pint of beer over his head? Or just be haughty and unaffected? Or say mean things about not being able to keep it up? Or make a list of all the things that have pissed me off so that I don't wake up in the middle of the night thinking "Dammit, why didn't I tell him this"? Or be bright and breezy and say "hey, it was fun while it lasted"? I think he really wants me to break up with him though. Coward. The reason I won't is simply that ... well, I wouldn't want to break up if this hadn't happened. (This, by the way, is the Return of the Ex, which has lead to him having "crazy feelings" that he's having "bad luck" in dealing with.) Oh, oh oh I've had all weekend to brood over this. Then I came to work this morning to find some crappy joke email he'd sent to me on Friday and several of his friends and HER. Which just pissed me off. Saturday was kind of awful. So was Friday night. Then I had moments of not feeling so awful. I went to my brother's last night, and they were so nice to me, so that felt good. But you know what it's like, minor setbacks can be somewhat overwhelming. Like the newsagent not having my newspaper made me cry. I don't understand how I could have been with him on Wednesday and everything seemed fine and now this. Blah... but he mentioned her name for the first on Wednesday, completely pointlessly in the middle of some story, and in hindsight, I guess it was just his chance to say her name outloud, in that way that you do when you just want to say someone's name outloud because they're on your mind. Ugh. I did a google search on her name, which I now have courtesy of his joke email and which is relatively unusual, and something came up about Kate Bush fan clubs, so I hope that's her, because ... well, I just do, OK. Because then I can laugh at her. She's from BRISBANE too. Oh the shame of being thrown over for a Kate Bush fan from Brisbane. But do you know what the worst thing is? In spite of everything, there's this stupid voice in my head, like some nerdy kid in class who can't resist piping up with some crap even though he knows he'll probably get the shit kicked out of him for it, there's this stupid voice saying "maybe he won't want to break up with you". Fucking hope springs fucking eternal whether you fucking want it to or not. Fuck. I need a haircut. - I feel nauseous 11:35 a.m. - 2003-02-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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