It might be the weather, but I’m officially ready to kill every single nobody who I’ve never heard of, coming out of their hole and asking for the password. I mean, what the fuck? If I say it’s no longer public, why can’t they get that THEY are the public I’m talking about, and you kids are the close friends, and leave it at that? I’ve stopped answering emails. I’m deleting anything that says anything about needing a password. Fucking selfish bastards. And good lord, I just heard from Life of Red that Mr. “Even though I dated all your friends and I’m really not a blogger but I’ll keep asking you out” asked her for my password, even after we had this exchange. Some of you will recognize his name by the way:
Seth J: This is embarrassing but apparently I need a password to read your posts. I’m not even supposed to read blogs anymore but damn it, I need to know. So how does it work. Do I get one from you? Thanks.
Me: Nope. Sorry. Blog is locked down to close friends only until further notice.
Seth J: Ah, that’s sweet, that you consider me a close friend. Well, what happened then? I mean, the cliff notes version?
Me: Um. Again. Not sure what you aren’t getting, but the blog is no longer public, nor is the content.
Seth J: Wow. I don’t think I’m the one you should be snappy with. Damn. Forget it.
I hoped he was gone for good, but he’s now taken to bugging people for the password. See, it’s these morons I want out of my life. He said something to Red about me that she told me at the Happy Hour, and it didn’t sound nice. I didn’t get all the details of it. I heard about your “fetish for older women” Seth J, and I ain’t playing. Wow. I’m in a shit mood today. There is all sorts of destruction in my path. I just told everyone to fuck off in the public post, and I think that is going to be the last public post for a damn long time. The idea of this just being 20 of us makes me really happy. I feel like I have a venting place again. It feels…real.
On the Sherlock front, there’s very little news. He’s honoring my request to leave me the fuck alone, as evidenced by our last text message exchange on Sunday night:
Him: Any chance of contact from you tonight? I’m gunshy about reaching out to you when you are shut down like this, but my intentions for you are pure, can’t you see that?
Him, again: Well, ok then. I’ll assume you are still upset and confused but doing ok otherwise. I hope so. Just know that I am still here for you and I love you even though I’m hurting.
Me: Clearly you are not understanding TWO STEPS OUT OF THIS RELATIONSHIP and I WISH I NEVER MET YOU of my past texts.
Him: I’m not pretending we can fix everything tonight. What I understand is our chemistry and our potential. Two steps back is ok for now. But I’m very glad I met you.
Me: Again…I wish I never met you and your harem of whores. That doesn’t sound to me like there is anything to work out.
Him: You will always be dear to me. You taught me more than I can ever thank you for. I’m sorry you feel that I let you down. I wish you only happiness.
So. Well. All I can say is that I can be very very hurtful. At the time, and even still now, two days later, I mean(t) every word of what I said above. What I’ve been hoping for, is that that “feeling” doesn’t come back – the feeling that drags my sorry ass running back to him. It’s not back as of right now. And, I actually feel like doing something to prevent us from ever getting together again.
Sherlock’s two deal breakers are me sleeping with someone else, and me doing any sort of drug again. All I would have to do is one of the above, and tell him, and assure myself emancipation from this relationship. I know what you are thinking, I could just lie to him and say I did one of the above things and that will be the end. But I can’t lie like that. I’m not hardwired to be a pathological liar. It would need to be the truth. Because then the relationship would have ended on a lie.
Or, I could just never call him again. I hate this.