Let’s face it boys and girls. You’ve all been there. You’ve known how it is like to be rejected. You know how it’s like to encounter those odd balls. – You think you had a “fantastic time” , you talk about “seeing each other again” , quite potentially, a picnic! with roasted chicken sandwiches! by the beach! – then they add you on facebook – then they crawl into this dark abyss of douchebaggery. One way or another, they just cease to call – or perhaps, they had no intentions of calling in the first place. these men insist that they want YOU to make the first MOVE, the thought of which perplexes your rational perception of this universe. they are usually armed with beautiful bodies that resemble demigods from the greek or roman empire.
*SIGH*
so you move out of that. you shut them out from all forms of communication. you put a bandaid on your rejected heart and say “it’s not my fault, i’m a fantastic individual, with my own merits, it just wasn’t meant to be” – you dust yourself off and move on. You replay several scenarios inside your head. most of which involve tipping over a glass of wine on his new pantsuit, or bitchslapping that model he’s nabbed. Not that you had that much beef going on, it was just fun to toy with the idea of torturing someone guilty of rejecting you.
Ok – I wasn’t even thinking of him. At all. He was tucked away in that corner of the universe, potentially alongside missing socks and ballpoint pen caps. He was in the dark hole.
We were walking. I was with him. This fantastic guy that I’m seeing. Then he stands there, in front of Salvadore Dali’s work dissecting the human form. I grew pale – fast. My heart skipped beats. My hands became sweaty. Before you knew it , i loooked like i was this pasty girl, about to faint.
*sigh*
Owell. I guess the morale of that episode is just to let karma do it’s magic, in its own sweet time.
Recent Comments