So, I'm feeling a bit better today. Last night I had a really long talk with May Day, who was having issues of her own, and we did our duty as roommates/best friends by trying to cheer each other up. I'd say we were pretty successful, too, all things considered. Poor May Day has been a bit discouraged of late, it seems, what with losing her job and some other rather unfounded self-esteem issues. Well, unfounded in my opinion, anyway, which I told her flat out. Seriously, I love introducing people to her because she's so clever and charming and has a way of making people feel completely at ease, even if they've never met her before, and I don't think she has any reason to think any less of herself. I couldn't have made it through the last two years without her, and I let her know it.
Then we felt better and wandered down to the 7-11 for snacks. Which, of course, left us standing outside the 7-11 at 8:45pm in our jammies (more or less), sipping Super Big Gulps and eating Choco-Diles and wondering why we can't seem to get dates. One of life's great mysteries.
Seriously, though, I do feel a bit silly at this point for carrying on about the demise of my Almost Relationship. I mean, I've had colds that lasted longer, you know? I guess it's not so much that I'm suffering from the loss of a vital part of my life as much as I'm just plain discouraged. I really saw a lot of potential for a serious, long-term relationship with The Guy -- I mean, we were seriously compatible on so many levels (although, and funny sidebar here, when he saw Ballet Barbie on the floor in my room, he assumed I'd purchased it for myself. Like, huh? Am I really that gay? I don't know if I should be a little bugged that he really thought I collected Barbies, or if I should be impressed that it was so unimportant a factor to him that he never even mentioned it.) -- and now here I am, back at square one, sans any dating prospects at all, and wondering if I'll ever meet anyone else I felt as comfortable with as The Guy.
May Day tells me that the whole thing smacks of personal issues on his part, which feeds right into my denial, but she assures me that the conclusion was based on numerous factors, including her direct observations and things that he said about the duration of his past relationships (two weeks is pretty standard for him, I gather). I'd love to believe that's true, but I'm not sure if I dare. I don't want to fool myself, you know? I don't want to be that delusional guy who absolves himself of all culpability in the demise of a relationship, because his ego can't take it. Please. My ego's been taking it on the nose for five years, now. We're pros. We know how to take a hit.
It's kind of fun to say these things to May Day, though, because she gets to be my inner, irrational voice. As she said, it's her job as best friend to hate his guts right now and blame him for everything, so that's what she's going to do. It feels rather good to have someone doing that for me when I seem unable to let myself occupy that office. Pussy Galore has also decided to hate him on my behalf. Her advice to me on how to deal with the situation was as follows:
Kick him in the junk and then run like Hell, laughing like a hyena.
I love Pussy Galore, if only because she urges violence as a solution to my problems and implements colorful turns of phrase like 'kick him in the junk'. Hee! Also, I just said 'I love Pussy Galore'. Hee! Pass the Capri Sun, because I'm twelve again.
Anyway, my birthday is tomorrow, and I'm going to get totally hammered with a bunch of my friends, and I'm really looking forward to it. I've debated a lot over the last few days about what to do with The Guy's request for a continued friendship. Despite Pussy Galore's advice, I think I'll probably call him. I mean, I kind of have to anyway because I lent him that book and he lent me a movie. Okay, that's a lame excuse. If I didn't want to see him again, I wouldn't call him, plain and simple. I don't think I want him along on the birthday celebration, and I have to decide when to call him, accordingly (he knows it's Saturday -- do I call him beforehand so he knows he's not invited, which would seem like a deliberate snub, or do I call afterward so he knows he missed it? Less of a snub, and probably the classier move).
I just hope it's possible for me to stop liking him and just...like him. Sigh.