Sigh.

Damn krptonite man.  

also

What the hell Verity?

also

Um, it doesn't feel that bad actually.  Scar is definitely no longer a scab, probably hardly even pink any more; scar is fading to that silvery slightly raised type.

However the cut is still there - the weakness is still there.

I wanted to see him as it seemed fun and he rang and he asked and he said sorry and he said he wanted to do simple nice things, like eat Thai.

So I could be hesitant, but also gracious.

But then of course what he said would happen changed, and then it changed again and then he didn't get in touch when he said he would.

And so nothing is that different.

But I don't feel sad.  And I don't feel cross with myself.  I just think it is funny.  I wish he'd call so I can tell him I think it is funny.

But also.  Ask him why the hell he does this...

But he won't be able to answer.  He has never been able to answer.

I don't really care any more.

At the risk of sounding bitter, I think he is a confused idiot who treats me with disrespect and it is all kinda just a joke now.

For a cliché that is so true to us - that (bush) fire is most surely been put out.

My mid twenties cocaine is done.

**Edited to add
Text recvd from - - - -
11-Jan-2011 2:01pm
Hey sorry for being a douche, really.

Um, douche?  That is like a word an American pharma sales person would have used in 2002.

Sigh.