I have a couple of pretty interesting posts in mind. One is about the Manic Pixie Dream Girl trope and how growing up with it fucked with (and continues to fuck with) my approach to relationships. There’s also a rant about a conversation with a coworker I had the other day, and a post idea about swing dancing and it’s awesomeness that has been rattling around in my head, but we’re not going to talk about these things because today I found out that Sam has a new girlfriend.
This is less then two months after he broke up with me. For those following along at home, this is also less than three months after he made this HUGE deal about telling me he loved me. Cool.
You know, it’s not even that there’s anything wrong with him having a girlfriend. There isn’t! He was all unattached and then he met this girl and he got all attached and that’s cool. But him moving on so soon really highlights the fact that when it came to our relationship, he was really for all intents and purposes just fucking around. The fact that he duped himself as well as me into thinking that I was special and that his relationship with me was really important to him really…. doesn’t help one fucking bit.
I can’t even think about a relationship right now. Casual sex and cutesy little crushes are one thing, but I can’t even imagine connecting with someone like that right now. The connection with him was too deep, and the wounds are too fresh, especially since they’ve just been ripped back open. Obviously, he’s not experiencing the same issues and that…..upsets me.
I feel played. I know he really didn’t mean for one second to play me, but he did, and it seems like I’m the only one paying for it and that’s just fucked up.
It’s funny, because just last night I was talking with The Crush (pseudonym to be decided) about past relationships and how they really fuck with your head, and then the next morning my ex fucks with my head. I told him about it, and he offered to come chill with me. I had to turn him down because of work and an exam tomorrow morning, but there’s something kind of cheering about the fact that this person I think is awesome thinks I’m pretty cool and enjoys my company.
Cue Life of Brian.