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Emotionally Repulsive

May 21, 2009
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I saw him on Sunday…he talked to me – one sentence. I responded. Also one sentence. It was okay. Not good, not bad, just okay. I was afraid to see him that day, and I did cry about it a little bit.

Everyone keeps asking me how I’m doing – even him – and I don’t really have an answer. I’ve been working so many hours that I have had to kind of push it out into the periphery of my consciousness. I can still acknowledge that it happened, but I haven’t really processed it yet.

It’s like I just hit pause on that part of my life. Obviously, I’m still dealing with it on an intellectual level or I wouldn’t be blogging about it, but I’m still not getting down to the nitty-gritty emotionally. I just don’t want to cry about it anymore. I don’t want to deal with the aching, the bleeding, the splinters of shattered emotional bone.

But then again, I’m not really dealing with it, so it might not be all that bad.

He read my blogs. He even commented on them. He IMed me the other day – or did I IM him? I think it was Saturday. He asked if it was okay to comment on my blogs and if it was okay for him to still talk to me. I told him I didn’t know. I still don’t know. I cried at work. Maybe that’s why I decided to stop feeling with it…I mean dealing with it.

Right now I think I’m being emotionally repulsive. I’m sort of pushing away anything that I don’t want to deal with or feel. I’m abusing Dr. Pepper again.

I saw him last night. I didn’t want to look at him. I sort of pretended like he wasn’t there. That is, until we got put in a group that had to work together – until I had to touch him. I almost choked. Time to switch off. Time to pretend I don’t feel his skin…on my skin. I touched his back. I wonder if he felt it. I haven’t felt it yet.

I told Savannah last night that I’m kind of numb from the belly button up about the whole thing. I really don’t want to cry about a boy anymore. Especially a boy who doesn’t even want me.

So, tonight I think I’ll sing. I’m going to go to karaoke and anesthetize myself with show tunes and the laughter of friends. Oh, and maybe a little vodka. That way I wouldn’t be able to feel my body from the belly button down either.

Yeah, good plan.

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