It stings.
Well, things have turned badly again.
A couple of weeks ago, I was out with Hermes. I was tired and not feeling great, so I'm sure I wasn't super nice. That's beside the point, though. After doing some shopping, we decided to go out to eat. As I was going to get out of the car, the car next to us was leaving, so I tried to stay out of the way and shut the door really close behind me. So close, in fact, that I shut my finger inside it. HOLY JESUS IT HURT. I really don't know how kids can handle that shit. PAIN. All up my arm, all the way to my friggin heart. Like, I was a little concerned because it hurt so bad even in my chest. Also, since Hermes drove, I had to get him to open the car back up. He was starting to walk inside by then, and apparently I was too calm and didn't convey the urgency of the situation well. I said I stayed there with my finger stuck for 30 seconds, Hermes says it was more like 15. Whatever, I'm pretty sure it was an eternity.
Hermes kept apologizing like it was his fault. It was very nice of him, and I really appreciated his concern. But it really was my own damn fault.
People kept telling me I need to start living in a bubble. Maybe I do.
That same weekend, well, actually the day before, my Mum and I did some shopping of our own. I was doing a little makeup splurging, and it was all well and good, and then my debit card was declined. Um...I'm sorry...excuse me? It's so annoying because I knew without a doubt that I had plenty of money in my account. And it's so embarrassing because you're like "no, I'm sorry, I really do have money! It's lying!" and the cashier is just placating you like you're a hobo or something. But I got home and checked my account and, yes, I did in fact have plenty of dollars. I was really hoping it was a fluke.
So after the finger disaster with Hermes (oh that sounds super dirty), I tried to use my debit card again at dinner. No such luck. At least that time, they didn't tell me it said insufficient funds...like you feel the need to prove to these strangers that you're not destitute. Weird.
So that Monday, I went straightaway to the bank and told them my troubles. They couldn't see anything wrong, but ordered a new card just in case. So I took out a bunch of cash for the card-less days to follow, and life carried on.
The new card came in a few days later and I jumped at activating it. I went about changing the information on all my saved accounts, and a couple still told me there was something wrong. Um...I'm sorry...excuse me? Ugh. Called customer service and it turned out that the card had been hacked. They told me that they'd tried to contact me (prove that, bitches, I got nothing) to ask about some international purchases that were suspicious. Nope. So they cancelled it and ordered off for another new card. Good thing I took a bunch of cash out. So, that's strike 2...or 3? of bad things happening. That was over the weekend so I knew I couldn't expect my card anything soon. Life carried on.
That Tuesday, I was chatting with Hermes and he suggested we meet for coffee. I was exceptionally tired and my legs were feeling swollen and angry, but I thought it'd be nice to get out of the house. I agreed...I think something seemed a little off from the start, but I wasn't feeling overly gregarious anyway. Then he told me that he'd run into someone the previous weekend (try to keep up, it took me a while)...it was a friend of a girl that (I guess) he was interested in. He thought the girl was seeing someone but it turned out she really likes him. So he decided that he was going to pursue that instead. But, he had the audacity to ask me if I wanted to date him before he went into his whole thing. And then he tried to say that we didn't have that much in common and letting things go further would only make it worse and blah blah blah...all the bullshit people try to use to feel less like a douchebag.
Alright, don't get me wrong, it's not like I was in love with him or anything. I was mostly mad about rejection (I still have an ego and it still stings) and the fact that he tried to feed me that crap. Don't fucking lie and say it's personalities or interests...there's someone else that you want to bone. That's it!
I was pretty cold during that meeting. But, the absolute worst, most fucked up, completely asinine part: not only did he try the "I want to be friends" shit, he said we should go on double dates. FUCK YOU VERY MUCH. I told him that wasn't going to happen, and probably being friends wasn't either. I know I was stubborn, but it also felt kind of good to stand up for myself. Eventually I just rolled my eyes and left. Then he asked if I hated him and tried to give me some of the same bullshit...saying that I'm a good friend and he'd like to buy me dinner sometime. Ugh. There's a whole lot of NOPE there.
So I've been wallowing in self-pity and loneliness. Sometimes I feel that I'm really not asking that much in wanting a Spot to lay my head (girls, you know the one...the indent between the shoulder and clavicle where your head fits perfectly and he can wrap his arm around you); other times I know I'm picky and pretentious. Then I get to thinking that it's really between the lesser of two evils--settling or being alone.
(Sorry, that's a depressing sounding ending, but it also sounds a little melancholy and epic. But I also have to get up RIDICULOUSLY early--read: 4:45; wtf is that?--tomorrow. Also, I've now ruined my epicly melancholy ending. And apparently just made up the word "epicly." And I said "fuck" a lot in this post. Oh well. Fuck.)
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