When I used to read comments or messages or even see pictures on Facebook of or from Still Married Guy, at first it would hurt me…or I’d feel jealous…or sad….and obsessive. But instead of deleting him, (because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of getting the best of me), I decided I would exercise restraint and just not go to his page or read his posts. But I still thought of him – often.
When the focus in my life switched to my career and my love life was officially on hold, the pain gradually lessened and the anger began to build. I’d much rather be angry than hurt. Albeit, apathy would be the preferred emotion, I’m not quite there yet. I’ve been tempted many times to send him one of my famous “fuck you” emails just to make him feel like shit for how he treated me and make him aware that he surely had no idea how much he hurt me. But I didn’t. Maybe I want him to see me flourish without him, and then feel like shit. Now I read his comments or messages and simply say (out loud mind you) Fuck you asshole, shut the fuck up! So I suppose I do still care, but it’s peppered with hatred…a step in the right direction!
So my career is once again taking me back on the road and I’m heading back to New York again. I’m not expecting any miracles, but I’m moving for work and hoping the love will fall in line after that. I’ve taken a look online and sure, there are plenty of familiar faces. Funny how these guys don’t seemed to have aged (some even turning back the hands of time) and some lame-asses are still using pictures that were old 2,3, 4 years ago. What’s old is always new again.
I wound up meeting with the Right Up My Alley dude. He picked a really cute but pricey townhouse bar/restaurant and greeted me at the door with oversized hipster glasses and a big smile. He was adorable, super cute, sweet, fun. We sat for about 2 or 3 hours talking about everything under the sun. We had a lot in common and similar backgrounds. Needless to say the man-child alert flag was at full staff, but that didn’t surprise me a bit. 40 never married, living in Williamsburg, Brooklyn but I was digging him nonetheless.
We wrapped things up and walked him to the subway and me to a cab. He made no mention of seeing me, calling me or speaking with me again. Oh but he did wish me luck on my interview the next day! Yup, a great date that I’ll never see again. So I ask myself, what’s worse, a shitty date that I never want to see (i.e.: Iced Tea douchebag) or a great date that is just that…..ONE great date. The lesser of two shitty things I suppose.
Chapter 642, my new life….again!