I Got Played

I wish I could report some happy news. I wish I could say that all my worries from Saturday were unjustified. I wish I could say that I didn't get played. But I did.

That's right. In a worst possible way. My suspicions from Saturday were correct in that they were foreshadowing the forthcoming douchiness from mrX. As all the great (and sometimes not so great) stories begin, "It all started when...

On Saturday I was still basking in the afterglow of a seemingly wonderful night with mrX and my dear friends, and I decided to ignore the fact that mrX never responded to my adorable, in my opinion, text message. I figured, his phone was dead when he was leaving and, therefore, there was that possibility of the text message never reaching him. I didn't go out that night because I was still terribly hung over from the festivities of the previous day, so right before going to sleep, I texted mrX with, "Hope you got my text message from today :)"

No response.

The odds of him not getting two text messages in a row were slim. I was becoming suspicious but I didn't let the clouds over my head ruin my sleep that night.

The next day I waited impatiently by the phone, expecting a phone call from mrX to invite me out to the movies. You see, a Sunday movie and dinner are (were) our tradition for the past six weeks.

No phone call.

I IMed him around five, and asked him about his night, yadda yadda, all that meaningless small talk. Then I brought up the question, "So let's go see a movie tonight... I really wanna hang out with you." His response, get this, - and you might want to sit down, if you're still standing up, for the level of douchiness is unprecedented and might overwhelm you - is "Of course you do. I'll bbl." Needless to say, I haven't heard from him at all that night.

Or the day after.

Or today.

This morning, filled with righteous fury. I emailed his work account with a short and straight-to-the-point email, "Hi mrX, I'm really curious to find out why you've been giving me a cold shoulder for the past four days?" Now let me just state that he always ALWAYS replies (replied) to his work email. And, call me crazy, but doesn't everyone check their work email at the very least once an hour?

No response. That son of a bitch.

After my agonizing attempt to not care, I called his cell on the way home from work.

No answer.

An hour ago I sent him an angry and final IM, "Can you stop being an asshole and tell me why youre ignoring me and i'll leave you the fuck alone." I'm not expecting him to dignify me with any sort of response. Apparently, mrX doesn't have enough balls to even tell the girl that she didn't mean a thing to him. Apparently, he'd rather rip the girl's heart out and walk off, leaving the girl shocked and still in complete disbelief that a living, breathing human being is capable of such despicable act.

That's it. I'm done. I need to get over this creepster and move on. No plots of revenge. No keying his precious car. No making use of makehimpay.com services (yes, I considered ordering an insulting message sent to his phone for a mere price of 24.95). I really wish I had never met him in the first place. And I would never wish a person like mrX even on my worst enemy. This hurts like hell, but as God is my witness, I will survive. I will simply walk away, and in a few months, memories of him will slowly but surely start fading away into oblivion, where they belong.

I suppose it's time to start the healing process. And hey, the last time I checked, there is an incredibly cute bartender/bouncer who works at one of the bars I frequent and who I catch looking and smiling at me from time to time. Maybe it's time for me to smile back.