It's an ache. A lonliness. It goes away for a bit, but then it returns when I forget to pretend it's not there.
I am thinking to myself "thank god it's over- because he wrote 'dating should be fun-but not that kind of fun' " When the truth is I am not happy it's over. I am hurt. HURT HURT HURT.
And again, the pattern continues. The woman punished for liking sex.
What I know I need to do is mourn this somehow. I am thinking I need to do something creative. I have a big, awesome keyboard, so I need to pull it out and let it out. Pain brings out great creativity. And great pain creates moving art.
And this pain is the pain of Mike, compounded with the pain of Charles, compounded with the pain of my dad. All three acted like I didn't matter. Didn't pay me the small amount of attention I needed. And I don's require much.
I am so grateful for hot pilot's call last night. And for Myspace (I have gotten lots of attention from there- I like it :) )
(oh, speaking of myspace, I see Mike looked at it tonight. So he hasn't forgotten me altogether at least. No, don't worry. I'm not holding on to hope. I just like knowing I cant be forgotten in 2 days)