I am not into you. I am lying.

Ow.

My birthay dinner concluded with me telling the art-man that I am "just not into him", immediately after I used the argument of not wanting casual sex, as an excuse.

I hadn't expected him to like me more than that. Or to tell me.

It hurts to refuse someone on the same basis on which I am being denied. I am just not into you that way, I imagine him saying, just as I did. And even now, after my 29th birthday party, I'm crying about how he wasn't there. Nor did he try to be. He had a "rock star photo shoot" said his email; tongue-in-cheek I suppose. It wasn't even a phone message. I can only assume he was not interested in coming afterward. A shoot never lasts more than five hours. Ow. Ow. Ow.

I can't believe I am crying over a boy. The right man would be here.

Please, give me the strength to not only walk away, but to move on, even if I am not going anywhere. It's been along time since I've felt so sad or so scared. I don't quite know what to do with these dark feelings. At the same time, I'm so glad they're unfamiliar.