Yes, yes I spent Thursday night and Friday night and all of Saturday in a haze of alcoholic stupor, wallowing in my own self pity and the fetidness of my own filth.
It was pretty awful.
I rolled out of bed on Friday morning still hungover, I didn’t even shower or change my shirt for that matter to get to work. I only managed to get away with it because it was casual Friday. And while my ultra casualness did raise a few eyebrows, I managed to deflect questions regarding my state of mind. On my way back home on Friday I picked up 2 bottles of port, one of which I finished that night.
On Saturday I went to a mates house, where I proceeded to whine and moan continuously for the entire day and night (I really do have awesome friends) and proceeded to pass out after consuming another 3/4 of a bottle of port and a few (okay a lot) glasses of bourbon. I finally got home around 11pm and passed out once again.
But today, Sunday, I turned a corner. Although I’m probably going to have to turn a few corners before I’m completely over this chick, since I thought I turned a corner on Thursday, but apparently had to reverse when the big truck called “self doubt and loathing” came roaring down that particular street.
But today I got up out of bed, cleaned the apartment a little, went to the gym and ran for about 2 hours (which was probably the best thing I could’ve done considering the amount of alcohol I consumed over the weekend) sweated like a mofo, then did an hour of weights training. Came home, ate food that wasn’t made by a potato chip company and/or salsa company (it was roast chicken). Bought a book to read, now I’m typing this entry. Later on I’ll fondle Vera for a little bit seeing that she got neglected the entire week the girl was down, and I really need to practice going from G major to E minor.
And while yes I still really want to call her. It’s like smoking, I know that I can hold out, I just need will power.
I’m actually surprised. Usually by this time I’ve done something crazy and insane to try and get the girl back. But I’m respecting her decision, while I spent 3 days drunk, that’s normal right? Getting over someone isn’t all that easy. But I have not written a long convoluted letter asking her to take me back. I am not considering moving all the way to the other side of the country just for her. And I am not obsessing about ways I could’ve fixed the relationship.
So either I really didn’t like her that much (doubtful); I have grown into a cold hearted bastard (possible); I’m actually acting like a grown up during this break-up rather than a little whiny bitch (we have a winner!). Although cold-hearted bastard would be a nice change
On a side note, the big ex (you know the one, got into debt because I followed her across Europe? I went all crazy-depressive for a few years after that relationship? Yeah her.) she called me out of the blue. She’s back for a month in Australia from Canada (where’ she’s migrated or migrating or something) and wanted to check up on me. She’s really keen to meet up, but that would mean having to drive 3 hours down to Sydney.
A girl that I thought could be “the one” dumps me, and the girl I thought was “the one” a decade ago comes back into my life, and then she’ll be leaving too…
The universe really has an odd sense of humour when it comes to my love life.