It's Over

Thank God the drama has ended.

Here's what happened: I went over at lunch for some cuddle time. We got naked but he was unable to complete the act. Afterwards we lay in each others arms and talked. I cried a bit at his failing health. "I love you, you know," I said, and asked if he loved me. Pause. Uh oh. Turns out he is infatuated but doesn't have that depth of feeling. So there it is. I truly AM a slut for sleeping with a guy who doesn't love me, and he really IS just a player. No more, though. I can't whore myself out like that any more with a guy who doesn't love me. You know what's even worse? He probably feels sorry for me. Oh God, spare me from that man's pity.

Damn. It costs $200 to get that diaphragm and I haven't even used it.

I'm such an idiot. I ignored the basic advice: if a guy is crazy about you, he finds ways to see you. He calls you. He can't wait to see you again. He puts in the footwork. He works things out. These are basic fundamental rules of male behavior which Joe did not exhibit. I knew he was not working at this but I pushed ahead anyway. And here I am, finding out that the rules are right, the rules can be trusted. Guys don't change. If they love you, they do certain things; things that Joe did not do. I've no one to blame but myself in all this. He did not use me. I used myself. I am now totally embarrassed and ashamed of myself.

Damn. Now it's back to envying roadkill; back to learning to live without him; back to learning to make each day whole and complete in itself, without him.

My song now:
Love hurts, love scars,
Love wounds and mars
Any heart not tough or strong enough
To take a lot of pain, take a lot of pain
Love is like a cloud
It holds a lot of rain.