Emotional Hangovers and Hang-ups

Right on schedule. I'm feeling better again.

Mr. Dapper walked out my door Saturday afternoon, I had and overwhelming bout of loneliness Saturday night (see below), nursed a cold on Sunday and studied for an exam, attended a dull class on Monday, and arrived at home to messages from a few good friends, including one from Mr. Dapper.

He never lets more than two days pass without trying to contact me. I shudder to think it's his "technique". He called again today while I worked out my frustration at the gym. Again he left a casual "hello" message -- nothing about making plans.

Choosing to study instead of call back, I felt good about my decision to feed my brain first. I emailed him later, of course.

My expectations are more in check than before. My priorities battle with my instincts and hormones. My hopes? Not entirely squashed. My skin is getting thicker.

I say that even as I check my email one last time before bed to see if he's responded.

Emotional Charity

The phone number written on my palm is that of a best-friend. Although it's a well-meant joke, I can't call it in the morning as it suggests. Her new boyfriend is there tonight and he'll be still be there in the morning. Mine? I left him so long ago, there is nothing but idealized tidbit memories of comfortable, easy Sunday mornings and hour-long back rubs left.

Until I was the last singleton of my girlfriends, I'd never noticed that couples retire earlier. The night was on, and so was the party. But, I know that they'd all stayed longer for me already; the one who goes home alone. Emotional charity.

I didn't think I'd feel like this and I'm hoping it will pass, but it's times like these that I really wish I had a boyfriend. Or, at least someone to pet me. Someone with smooth brown skin familiar to me. I can't even begin to think about the morning.

The Morning After Chill

Mr. Dapper left this afternoon, the same way he always does. Late. Looking good.

I didn't get any of my homework done. Instead, he did me on top of my homework. He broke my bed, nearly broke a leaf from my dining room table, and almost broke a rung of my antique chair. If I'm careful, he won't break my heart.

I'll have to start being more careful than I've been.