Texts, emails, and other desperate measures (or, what I’m swearing off for 40 days)

To say that at 28 years old I’ve learned not to waste time on a guy who’s not clear in his interest and not actively pursuing me would be COMPLETELY true. As in, I’ve totally learned that lesson. Put it into practice? Umm…

Yeah, so there’s no point trying to pretend I’ve not sunk to the depths of patheticness when it comes to this guy. (He’s not even worth a cute nickname. Jerk.) We’ve been off and on for over a year now, but it’s definitely time to pull the plug. Because, this last time, he made actual plans with me for this weekend (we don’t live in the same state and he travels a lot for work, so advance planning is a necessity). Three weeks pass, not a single word. No response to two in-the-meantime texts I sent. (I SEE YOU LOGGED IN TO SKYPE!)

“Let me know that you’re still coming!” I wrote in a very pleasant, very passive-aggressive email. Because, you know, weekend guests need to be planned for. Food bought. Place cleaned. Work schedule adjusted for airport-picking-up.

No response.

Four days later, beginning of this week, my Saving-Face-Email (still pleasant, even more passive aggressive): “Hey, since I didn’t hear from you I need to assume you’re not coming, because now I don’t have enough time to get ready. Too bad! :(” (Sad face is the ULTIMATE in this one-sided exchange’s passive aggression.)

NO RESPONSE.

I am pissed at him, at THIS, at myself. I’m beyond disgusted at myself right now. So, desperate measures requiring dire circumstances, I’m giving up any and all contact with this guy for Lent. I figure that a 40-day period should do away with whatever warped bond I feel to this guy who’s been stringing me along for a year now.

Maybe not the holiest of goals… But I’m not Catholic anyway, so whatever.

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