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i_am_ghost

Melbourne, Australia

Member Since 2004

Followers 136 Following 208

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Part 2..

Jun 9, 2014
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This will be riddled with typos as I'm on my iPad.

Part 2 was a sad story. The last blog I wrote (not counting last night, because this is part 2 of last night.. Or my ply for my shithousemates instagram account..), I was talking about how I was in a state of regret and despair. Inconsolable. And working myself up to asking my ex out with the hopes that there would be some fairytale reconciliation.

It was not to be.

I did ask her. As I said, I had the time and the day planned out, I had the dialogue. Because I'd planned to ask on a Wednesday night, I worked myself up for the entire week. I was the worst person to be around. The Wednesday was the most awful day of anxiety. But I asked her. I asked her for a drink. She said she was not in a position to go for a drink right now. I asked her if it was because of money. And then she didn't reply.

So I had another whole day of anxiety before I got home from work on Thursday and told her that I wasn't going to let this go easily, because I wanted this. She eventually replied lateish that night. Telling me about how busy she is with work, placement, and picking up some paid extra work taking an old lady to the opera. That she had very little time, and very little money. I told her I wasn't dead poor despite just buying a house, that I could afford to buy the both of us some drinks, and that I had no intention of staying out late because I had soccer the next day and I was really looking forward to it.

She said she wanted to see me, and catch up with me. But that text ended with something along the lines of.. "I don't know what you're hoping will come of this meeting but I don't want to hurt you.. I never wanted to hurt you.."

I wrote and re-wrote a reply to that message about 100 times before sending a reply, jumping back and forth between being forthright and declaring my intent and confidently going after what I think is right, and being defeated, or not replying at all. I couldn't sleep, and I sent a reply at about 2am simply saying "maybe some other time then."

I was still in this deep out of sadness until probably Sunday afternoon. People knew it. I had an awkward meeting with my boss' boss while my boss was away (so many bosses) to catch up about what my next moves were for my career, and how I was doing personally. He asks these questions out of obligation but his interest seems to forced and insincere. I had a good talk with one of my mates over coffee and he was a good sounding board and a voice of reason, but didn't appease me tell me what I wanted to hear, which was that everything will work out and that I will definitely get her back. And I made another one of my friends cry over lunch one day because of how sad I looked. It was probably the worst week of my life.

From that last 2am text, I then went the longest I've ever gone since the day I met her without speaking to her. The last record was 8 days, and this time it went to 11. I checked my phone after my game of soccer on Sunday and saw her name on it. With hope and trepidation I unlocked my phone. And the only thing she had to say to me, was to tell me the gas company had sent her an overdue bill because it was still in her name. I replied saying I would take care of it. That was last Sunday and I haven't heard from her since.

I still think about her all day, every day. When I look at "posts others have liked" on Instagram, I'm terrified I will see something of her pop up. Terrified. I'm lucky that this happens very rarely because most of my friends did me a solid and deleted her too, or listened to me when I told off another of my friends for liking an attractive photo of her and me seeing it. But for some reason if I see a post of something of one of her friends, I go looking for her name in likes and comments. I'm torturing myself.

I'm doing a little better this past week though, or is it two. The house is settled and I'm going up to see it in two weeks. I'm planning to visit some friends in Brisbane over a weekend in 4 weeks, and I'm back lurking on Tinder. I'm not ready for anything, but on the rare occasion I get a match, I feel better about myself that someone else thinks I look ok too. I don't talk to them, I just like the confidence boost.

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