I woke up several times during the night having gone to bed so early. I kept telling myself to go back to sleep. Finally, around 7am I just couldn’t do it anymore. I picked up my phone to look at the time and saw that I had a message from Carl. We chatted a lot. He was very complimentary. He called me sexy and said many other things that made me smile. He had to work today, so our initial plans were cancelled. I suggested that maybe he could come over after work and watch our favorite TV show. He said he could and that he would probably be here around 6 or 7.
I spent most of the rest of the day getting stuff done. I went food shopping, made food for the week, and cleaned my apartment. As it neared 6:00, Carl stopped messaging me. I assumed that meant he had left. He lived about an hour away. Seven o’clock came and went. Well, it was rainy and stormy out. Eight o’clock came and went. Maybe he stopped somewhere. Maybe he got in a car accident. Maybe he was caught in a heavy downpour and pulled off the road until the rain calmed down. Eight-thirty squeaked by and I put on the outside lights for him. I called the phone number he gave me. It went to a voicemail. Instead of a message, all I heard was a “wolf whistle” then a beep for me to leave a message. I decided not to leave one.
At 8:45, I felt a familiar pain in my heart. He had stood me up. He was fucking with me. I had fallen for it. What the fuck was wrong with me? A tiny part of me wanted to still give him a chance, but I was on the verge of tears. The worst part was that I had completely opened up to him out of an impulse that I took to mean it was fate that we were meant to be together. How ignorant could I be?
I went out and picked up some beer and cigarettes. I hurt inside. I wanted to talk to a friend to try and assuage my pain. I sent a Facebook message to Zak. I told him I was stood up. He sympathized with me. Then he had to go after only a few minutes. I found I had nobody else to talk to. I drank a few beers and then I smelled cigarette smoke coming from outside. It must have been George, who lives upstairs. We briefly got along rather well. I went out and asked if I could join him in his smoke. He said he was almost done and went inside. I smoked my cigarette, contemplating what I did to drive him away. I wondered if I drove all my friends away. I wondered what I did to them. I started thinking some pretty sad and self-loathing thoughts about myself. He had not been on Facebook since our last message. I went to sleep in tears.