Twenty-four hours ago I was in a fairly chirpy mood. Hard to believe that less than twelve hours ago life was OK. I was feeling pretty good. Everything was starting to fall into place. There was just one area of my life that was a little wrinkled, but I was working on it, doing my best, and I could handle it.
Or so I thought.
Let me explain: David called me at about 9:30 last night, which seemed unusual to me at the time since it was 11:30 EST, which is pretty late for him. But I was really happy and excited about it anyway. I told him "Happy Birthday" (yesterday was his 27th birthday-- I'd sent him a card with a cow on it). He told me that he'd gotten the card and that I was one of three people who'd remembered-- the other two were his parents.
We talked for a goodish while and everything was nice and happy and good and full of nice things he said about me; everything was as it always is, and I was feeling pretty happy he'd called.
But then it came out-- and I'm not exactly sure how-- that he is still not over his ex-girlfriend, despite the fact that she has had the status of "ex" for a year now. But apparently they still "hang-out" despite the fact that she cheated on him, has no interest in him anymore and is, in fact, in a serious relationship with a 46 year-old divorce (imagine an accent over the "e"-- I'm typing on a windows computer and can't figure out how to do special characters) with two children.
He says that everything would be different if I didn't live way out here in Arizona. He says everything would be different if I had been able to move out there as I had planned.
So, even though I am, by his own admission, "what he wants", I am being punished for living too far away while he turns his affections to a woman who mistreats him. And yes, she completely forgot his birthday, too-- I know it's a small thing, but that's just it; it's something so small and simple to do, and yet it can mean so much-- but I remembered, and yet I'm not the one.
Sometimes life really, really sucks and I just want to cry.
Unfortunately there's no time for that now; I'm at work (I came in early because I couldn't sleep) and I just have to keep going. I feel shaky all over, like I have the flu or something. I know I'll be OK again eventually, I know I'll get over it, but it seems like I'm always "getting over stuff" with nothing really in between.
Even though David said that what Casey had told me about how it probably "just wouldn't happen" for me was "absolute crap", I can't help but believe it when all evidence points in that direction.
We got off the phone, finally, at about 11:30-- two hours later. A couple of minutes after that, he called again to tell me to listen to some song. I haven't yet and so have no clue what was meant by it. I don't doubt that he cares about me, I guess. I suppose the timing is just all wrong which, frankly, is no comfort.
Right now I am listening to my boss typing in the next cube
and am feeling
tired and miserable