Wednesday, March 13, 2002

Don't Ask the Questions You Don't Want to Hear the Answers to.

You may recall, on my journey to Boston, I decided to sucker up and call the ex that did me wrong. Why, you might ask? Well, I did so because 1) I was thinking about him since I was on that side of the world, 2) I thought maybe it would be possible to get some ex sex (joke, really), 3) I found myself thinking it would be nice to really see if we were cool, 4) why the hell not, I haven't learned from my mistakes, and 5) I'm a loser.

The trip goes and ends without a phone call. I think 1) he didn't get it, 2) he didn't want to see me, 3) he didn't get it, and 4) he didn't get it. You can see the pattern forming here, and it's not quite cute, but bear with me. There is a lesson learned.

I get back to San Francisco, and I think to myself, I wonder if he ever got the message? [this is the part where you read the title of the post and you think, "is there some foreboding here?". Thanks.] I spend the next 72 hours asking myself if he really did get it, and if he really did try to call, and maybe if he really wanted to find out what's going on and all this other crap that I'm just wondering out loud and staring at the ceiling looking for an answer somewhere amongst, as Pork Honey so eloquently said before he kicked my ass in Scrabble, the stucco.

So before I drafted this email, I 1) worked out and got no buffer than I already am, 2) watched big sweaty guys hug, 3) found a UPS notice saying my phone was delivered but since no one is home [who the hell is home during UPS delivery hours] it went back to UPS land, and 4) said what's up to my bird and fed the fish who are in a tank full of algae. I also 5) checked the status of the message to see if he actually got it, since in my mind, he would have called if it was meant to be, and wanting to know the truth so I can move on with my life, whew, you're probably sick of me going on and on over this, but let me tell you...

He checked it and never called.

So what does this mean for the Voodoo? 1) Move on, heffa, it's about damn time, 2) He was a punk busta anyways, and if he weren't some dude who could single-handedly take over a small country you'd send some dude over to whup on him cause he broke your heart in a million pieces, 3) Didn't you meet some really cute guys in Boston? 4) Who needs someone who can't be cool with you even though you've pretty much done it all for him? and 5) Guys like him are few and far between, but wouldn't you rather be stuck with a guy who's good to you and hang onto that rather than the memory of something that was once cool, but really a piece of fetid cheese waiting to drop on your head?

That's life, I tell myself. It's now time to bounce and get over it. It's also time that I let go, finally let go of that part of my life and quit looking behind me. So should I have answered the question? Sure. I needed to, and now we know.

Voodoo

posted by Voodoo Child @ 6:53:00 PM