Poor me

The day after you break up with someone you get to eat cold pizza and ice cream and call in sick.

He says it's not really a break-up but you call bullshit on that and point out that he's been acting like your boyfriend for the past month so it certainly is a break up. And if during the conversation he refers to you as his girlfriend you don't need to call him out on it.

Then again, since he's been reading your blog, maybe you just did call him out on it. (If you don't remember saying it, you'll just have to trust me.)

You told him it was fine to keep reading the blog after catching him fibbing about it and slapping him around (in a playful way). You are the two worst liars in the world. You asked him to tell you what was ok to write about and what wasn't but all he said was that he didn't want to censor you. Not helpful.

It's a break up because you won't have it any other way. It's your decision. He would ask you to wait, but you both know that's no good and not fair. He says, "It's good that you draw the line." You say, "I have a line and that's where it is. Until you make a decision, I can't be involved with you." It doesn't mean you like him any less. Or want to be with him any less. But you can't be happy in this situation. And that's what it feels like--a "situation" that is surrounding you, affecting you, but not about you. It is frustrating. It makes it hard to get really angry.

You could write a sad post or an angry post or an I-don't-care post. But "I don't care" would be a lie because you just don't want to care. You're tired of these non-boyfriends and these failed romances and you wonder if maybe you'll just stay home for the next thirty years. Or start drinking heavily. Nah, not gonna happen. At the least the staying home part.

Grateful for: knowing.