I received the following in a text from Chris yesterday:
“I’m sorry but I have to cancel again. I’m just getting the feeling that my life is too messy to make plans right now. I’m sorry for being such a flake.”
Was it something I did? Something I said? I’ll never know.
After receiving this text, I had to go man the registration booth at the company conference for a few hours. I was glad when I got there and learned I wasn’t needed.
I went home and changed into comfy stretchy clothes. I worked for a couple of hours, then did my grocery shopping and got back in time to start dinner and get it in the oven before watching the democratic debate.
I wanted sugar. Or alcohol. Or something deep-fried. My soul craved it.
I didn’t want to give in to it. I want to decrease my size and have more energy and better emotional health so badly. I knew eating crappy foods or drinking alcohol would make me feel far worse than treating myself well would.
In the produce section at the supermarket, I spotted a bowl of sliced pineapple. Perfect. That would satisfy my sugar craving.
I munched on it while I got dinner started. It was almost too sweet and definitely satisfying. Absolutely ideal.
And then I reached for the rum anyway. I made a mixed drink with coconut sugar and almond milk. Don’t try this. It was terrible.
Then I switched to straight bourbon. Much better. I happen to have a bottle of Woodford Reserve on my liquor shelf. It’s a bourbon so lovely that it warrants being sipped slowly, which is exactly what I did. I measured out just one ounce when I poured it.
I indulged a little. I didn’t overdo it. But I indulged a bit, and it was lovely.
Chris does not want to see me, and so be it.
I asked him if making our plans for Thursday less complicated would change things at all. He said it wouldn’t.
He apologized profusely. He stated how sorry he was, how much this sucks, and so on. Feeling as though he might actually be a nice guy who was really into me does nothing to make me feel better. I’d rather think of him as an asshole. It would make this easier.
I’ve deleted his number and archived our text conversation. Honestly, I feel better for having said goodbye than I would be staying in limbo. He’s gone, and I’m sure it won’t take long for me to forget he ever existed. At some point in the future, I’ll happen upon these posts that mention him and think, “Oh yeah! That guy!”
I recognize the disappointment and ache I feel have very little to do with Chris and everything to do with my loneliness and the fact that there are so few other men I want anything to do with.
More than anything right now, I want Cookie. We haven’t communicated in a couple of weeks, which is unusual for us but we’ve both had other things going on. Regardless, I don’t like how heavily I wish to lean on him. I don’t respect myself for it. I recognize it as unhealthy. I am not going to reach out to him.
And yet… when I think about what would make me feel better right now, the image that comes to mind is curling up in a cuddle with Cookie and telling him all about this, and then snuggling and watching a movie or something.
I know these feelings have very little to do with Cookie either, though.
It’s about rejections and fear. It’s about too many guys in a row that I found somewhat desirable not wanting me.
It’s about my fears of these feelings of loneliness and this physical ache to be held by someone lasting an interminable length of time longer without any satisfaction.
At this point, I’m strongly considering taking a break from dating. It’s not working for me. Trying to find someone to help ease these feelings of loneliness is only serving to make me feel far more lonely than I might otherwise.