Contrary to what I would have myself believe, he is not so broken and lonely without the wonderfulness of my existence in his life. He has not come crawling back. There was no begging, there was no emotion, there was no grand gesture. There was just the sound of the wind on the other side of the telephone, and the nails in the coffin, and firm, resolute words stringing together a somber, unromantic idea, reaffirming that, no, we should not get back together, that is a bad idea, Pilar.
Sure, I knew it was a bad idea, but my ego really, really wanted some grand sense of superiority, to be lauded as a sexual deity, to be told over and over again, “I miss you, and I can’t do better than you, and I’m sorry, and what can I do to fix it. I can’t go on without you. I don’t know what I’m doing. Please forgive me!” Like what they have in the movies: an unattainable fantasy.
I’m not sure how I would have responded, but, let’s be honest, I probably would have replied with the resounding thud of a lip smacking, belly satiating, heavy handed rejection. A big ol laundry list of “this is why you’re such a little bitch” and whatnot. But, no, instead, all I got was, “You’re to blame for this, too.”
I don’t think I’m to blame for this, but, then again, I’m sure that’s what he thinks, too.
I don’t know why I wanted him to call me again, three weeks later, but maybe it has something to do with the fact that I’ve been so inured to wakefulness lately, so dulled and stunted by every day life. So blase, filled with ennui, able to feel neither excitement nor pain. I’ve just been a little bit dead on the inside lately, so maybe clawing the scab off my wounded heart and watching it bleed a little bit more will make things more interesting.
It slightly has, but I’m sure that pretty soon I’ll revert to my stasis of watching TV and having no inspiration from which to cull interesting blog posts, after which my lack of productivity will spiral into some great form of depression and it’ll just all end there.
I wonder if finding someone interesting to fuck is the only solution to this, or if shopping can also help plug up that hole.