ugh
7:05 a.m. & 2007-11-22

Okay. It is 7:05 a.m. on Thanksgiving morning. I am home on break, with nothing to occupy my mind but the events of the past two and a half months.

It is time to write about...last weekend.

Will and I slept together two Saturdays ago. Last Saturday, as in five days ago, he dumped me via text message for his ex-girlfriend.

Yeah.

My heart was pretty much ripped in shreads. I'm not going to lie...this is one of the biggest disappointments since the tragedy that was my break-up with Josh over a year and a half ago.

I've pretty much been depressed as shit for the past week and a half. I was depressed before he even sent the text because, in my heart, I saw it coming.

Shall we go over the events?

Two Saturdays ago, Will and I went to see Into the Wild. We walked to the theater and talked for awhile before the movie started. I am not going to lie, up until that point, I was sure things were dead, as he did not pay or even suggest to pay for me to see the movie. Not trying to be a gold digger or anything, but I wasn't even sure he was interested in me as more than a friend, much less that we were on a date. So I was a bit disappointed and sat down for the two and a half hour movie feeling restless.

That is, until he started inching closer and closer to me during those two and a half hours.

Our shoulders touched; every so often, we'd turn to each other to make a comment about the movie or something. Every time, I would turn my head so he could talk into my good ear (I'm deaf in one ear), and he would put his cheek right up against mine, his breath hot on my face. Basically, I was on top of the world.

Movie ended. We walked back to my dorm; he offered me his jacket on the way.

We're in my dorm, talking. I suggest we watch a movie that I had just told him about, The Bridge (about suicides on the Golden Gate Bridge---perfect date movie, I know). About 10 minutes into the movie, he asks me the question that still echoes in my mind.

"Can I kiss you?"

And that is where it all began. The kiss led to sex--twice. Which led to him staying the night. Which led to a good morning kiss. Which led to him walking out of my dorm and out of my life.

The past two weeks have been a blur. I've been replaying the events of that night and the days following in my mind like a broken record. Every movement, every sentence...like a fucking broken record playing round and round again. From the questions I asked to whether or not I snore at night, I have every second cataloged in my mind.

But that doesn't matter.

I had planned to write a long, explanatory entry, but even as I type these words, I find myself growing sad and angry. Sad over what could have been and angry over what I ruined.

I have to go now. I can't write about this anymore.

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