How pathetic is this? Waiting around in a bar for nights when you’ll probably never see him again.  I’m actually waiting for him here right now as I type this.

He hasn’t called but that’s the painful part (I’ll get to it–more than a one night stand–pathetic…well, no…?)

Looking around the neighbourhood everywhere you go, doing double, triple, endless takes? If you see someone vaguely resembling him, you have to stifle yourself for actually screaming out his name?

Let me take you back in time a bit.  On October 23, 2013 PA took a guy home with her.  Surprisingly to both us (I believe!) we had sex.

Now, it is not the first time PA has had sex with guys since she proclaimed herself “gay.”  She also hates labels and could go on and on about that.  It was just “easier” to label herself that way. Men didn’t “do it” for her on so many levels.

And they’ve never given her an orgasm when having sex.  This guy…? Oy!

This “guy.”  Totally different (and forget the orgasm where I did have to become a bit of a gymnast.)  I hate the word “connection” but a bond and a serious sense of intimacy was formed that night. And I was not “played” in any way.  Too many variables and the biggest was that he was Croatian and his English was not very good! I spent a lot of time translating!

But what hurts? The phone call.  To be serious friends because we both didn’t really have any.  That was pre-arranged before the sex had even existed; not even on the map because the map didn’t even exist itself.  The call was for friendship, which he shyly said he would do.  Call me for that.

I’m not being selfish.  I’m worried about what the hell he’s thinking.  Am I being selfish in what the hell he’s thinking? It is of me.  Because that is what it all comes down to.  All is silent because he’s thinking of me–or at least the two of us.

A friend I met online told me to just let it go.  When you get into one night stands and even stranger danger sex, that’s just how it works.  It sucks, but that’s how it goes.  She knew I was in a lot of pain over it.

Well, the healing process is a bit slow going.  Here I am feeling like this.  The Lowest of The Low.  Begging for scraps in the streets or gutters.  Have I reached “Stalker Status?” I’ve already left several messages with a trusted bartender (he and I are both regulars here.)

I woke up crying over him today.  Why? *pauses to go for a cigarette while obsessing if he’ll come in tonight*

I don’t know.  I guess for me.  Not in worry about him.  Like my friend said, “Let it go.”

If we cross paths again (we live not far from each other) then we can talk.  Otherwise, don’t expect any calls or txts.

“Let it go.”

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