Saturday, September 22, 2007

Dictionary disappointment

The thing is, I don't really know what just happened in the last 24 hours. Everything was fine. You were back in town, I was waiting for you to make the call and we were going to spend a few hours being witty and charming and funny and then have ridiculously sinful sex. Instead, I am left feeling like a complete fool. I feel cheap and used and betrayed and disappointed and alone. Not that I'm justified in feeling that way, because I'm not your girlfriend. I guess I wanted to be more than just the late night cuddle call but I told myself every day "he's not the boyfriend, you have a boyfriend." I wish I hadn't let you in so easily.

You were like the dictionary: all the right words in all the right places. How did I fall for that? I guess that makes me a word whore. And Scrabble too. You had me well and good with Scrabble. That's why I did what I did that night. Because you beat me at Scrabble. I respected you for that. I guess I can't respect myself and someone else at the same time.

The effect of this entire episode is that I have completely lost any trust in a man's sincerity. In future, if I hear "you're beautiful" or "you're funny" or "you take my breath away" or, god forbid, "Why would I look at the stars or the boats? You're shining brighter than anything else tonight", I'll just laugh and walk away with my dignity and self-respect.

Right now, I hate you for making me feel like just another fish in the sea. All of your words and actions were an experiment, weren't they? Just designed to see what would work on me and what would turn me off. When you said you were a bad guy, I didn't see it. That you were using me for something different than I was using you. Shame on me for not being perceptive enough. Yes, I am an idiot. For not seeing what you were doing to me. I thought you were just putting yourself out there. But did I see the man behind the mask? I don't think so. I used you for company, to help me feel like the world wasn't such a big, empty, lonely place. What did I take from you that you didn't need? I needed the crumbs of my self-esteem and I thought you were giving those to me for free. I didn't realize I would end up paying such a high price.

How did I become this invested so quickly? I realized the whole time that you just wanted sex. You said so yourself. That you're not good with commitment. I hope that the other two girls you're playing with are more resilient than I am. Because resilient I am not. I cry and self-destruct. Although, arguably, this whole thing was part of the larger self-destruction that is my life. I wanted you to be different. Why? Maybe I wanted some reason to hope, to not be disappointed, to believe in love. Whatever that word means. I don't think I will ever know.

I still have your shirt. It doesn't smell like you anymore. I was hoping to exchange it for another one to get me through the next 4 days. And I think you would have appreciated that trade. You do seem very attached to that shirt. I'll probably wear it to bed again tonight. It feels soft against my breasts. Your hands would have felt better but I'll forget about that in time. Just another pair of hands wanting to touch and squeeze and caress and play. Yours were nicer than others but that feeling will pass. Maybe you'll call me when you remember that I have it and I'll tell you to shove it up your ass. Maybe you won't call because you'll be smart and decide to buy another one. Just leave it alone. Please leave it alone. I need to heal and forget and become hardened and cynical.

I'm giving up on hope now. Disappointment is much more predictable.

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