Single

I'm single again. When did I start writing this blog? February. Eight months later and I'm alone again. I'm starting to think that I was alone all along. And maybe I'm supposed to be alone. I think the Universe is trying to tell me something. The other stuff that made me happy was just an illusion. I guess I've said that before. I'm tired. I really want to go to bed but I started washing my sheets and then ended up going out before I could put them in the dryer. I can use the other sheet set but they're a lower thread count and I want my regular sheets tonight.

B and I broke up this evening. I'm relieved and exhausted and drained. I think that's a good sign. A relationship should be rewarding right? When it gets to be too much work, then it's not worth it, right? When I'm putting in more work than he is, then it's time to end it, right? He could barely look at me tonight. That was disappointing. The fact that he didn't have a be-all and end-all solution to the problem.

Although, I admit that I felt compelled to end it because of the mysterious guy that I fell so hard for. At least I was already feeling like I had done everything I could do before I met him. I know I shouldn't have cheated but, at this point, it's irrelevant. It's over. Whatever the reasons, they're now irrelevant. It wouldn't have been right to keep B thinking everything was fine, when clearly it wasn't, and for so many reasons. There's just no way he would have been able to measure up to the older, successful, sophisticated guy who surprised me so much when I was least expecting it. I really miss him. I guess that's why I feel relieved that things are over with B.

Maybe my friend with the painted pink dress is right and it just hasn't hit me yet. Maybe it'll hit me tonight. Or tomorrow morning. Or tomorrow night when I'm at home alone instead of being at B's surprise party. Or in a few months. When I'm alone for my birthday. Or Christmas.

The words are just pouring out of my fingers tonight but I don't feel anything but sheer exhaustion and fatigue. B shoved me out of bed last night. He was lying in a star shape in the centre of the bed and I couldn't move him. I went to sleep on the couch and he didn't even ask me why this morning. Turns out my couch is pretty comfortable. Perhaps I should just sleep there tonight. But I still want my sheets. Perhaps this is a primal urge. For comfort and familiarity. Not that I'm upset or angry or bitter or resentful. I just miss the mysterious guy.

When I was having sex with B, I thought about him. When B was neglecting me at the reunion, I thought of him. I thought of him in the car on the drive up, on the drive back down, at the pub drinking a beer and talking to strange boys I must have met 14 years ago and don't remember, even though a lot of them remember me. Is it too soon to check on my sheets?

Now I'm drying one sheet at a time. Not that it will be faster but at least they will seem to dry faster.

B didn't have a lot to say to me in the last 48 hours. I was surprised by that, given his tendency to verbosity in almost every other situation. He can sure talk shit when he should listen.

Meanwhile, I just spent a few hours with my painted pink girlfriend and almost every word of that conversation was useful. Even the silences were fine. I was uncomfortable with B on Thursday night when we went for sushi. Maybe because I was thinking of the mysterious guy and how he made me laugh and B was incapable of holding my interest or even trying to find out what I was thinking. B talked about my trip to the Bahamas in November as though everything was normal. He said that we could go to Freeport and sort of leered at me. I realize that in hindsight. Maybe he was just with me for the sex. At least that was good. Our issues certainly didn't prevent him from doing all the things he did before. But perhaps I found that part of the conversation off-putting. The fact he would consider my trip in November without even acknowledging the fact that we hadn't talked in three weeks. Like I was supposed to forget that I was disappointed and frustrated with him once he tempted me with getting away to a different island. The thing is, I knew then that I wasn't going. His parents will be out of town that week and I was planning to spend most of the week with his mother because B only has one vacation day left this year.

So there's no longer any reason to go down. I hope she enjoys the maple syrup anyway. B didn't even offer to pay me back for the stuff I bought him from Costco. It's a good thing I didn't get him a birthday present. And I guess I'll keep his FCUK shirt. At this point, I'm going to a show by myself tomorrow but I'd rather go alone than take someone who won't appreciate it. I did ask the mysterious guy but he's going to a baseball game (!). Then I asked the person who introduced us and she's busy too. So I asked my painted pink girlfriend and she has a meeting. She said she would see if she could move the meeting but, at this point, I'd really rather go alone.

Is it time to check on the sheet again? It's getting there.

Another interesting thing to note was that, this time, my mother was one of the first to know. I was in the process of writing a text message to my sister so that she could tell my mother but then my mother called so I broke the "happy" news to her. I expect she's overjoyed. She never liked him. Not then and not now. I also sent a mass email out to all of the friends I have spoken to about this in the last few weeks. Perhaps that's tacky but I think that I'm going to try and spend a minimum amount of energy thinking about B from now on. If the third time isn't a charm, I don't think we were meant to be together. At least now we know for sure.