A month or so ago I was broken up with in a email. Yes, I said it - an email. I knew that the end was nigh, but after a year and a half I thought that maybe we would have some kind of conversation about it. Nope. I was Berger-ed (check your Sex and The City references here). No call, no show. An email and that was it.
Huh.
After being sad for approximately one day, I came to the realization that I had grieved about as long as I should under the circumstances. Why be sad when I could get busy being awesome? (Now all I need to figure out is how to be awesome.) I threw myself into hanging out with friends, kept busy with school and distracted myself from the fact that I was alone again.
I'm not so good single. I get dopey and nervous and wonder if I said something wrong and become this blithering idiot, but something about this time is different. Maybe it's because I'm older. Maybe it's because I know myself better. Maybe it's because I am completely dead inside now.
Whatever it is, I decided I'm going to go out on many, many dates and write about how all of those turn out. I might just meet the guy who I'll make miserable for years to come right away, but chances are I'll have to date a load of turds before I find that guy and you get to hear all about it. Lucky you.
Welcome to my journey of a thousand lifetimes...or what feels like lifetimes.
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