Ok, Ok, enough of the pseudonyms. His real name is Vic. Victor. And I like him. A lot.
It's just that he is so busy during the week (and I, unfortunately, am not) that we only get to spend time together on the weekends. And apparently most of his weekends are full of plans, too.
It is just hard for me to be like, whatever, he won't forget me. He'll still want to call me in three weeks. I do leave some sort of impression.
Yesterday he did tell me that he would try to call me on Sunday when he gets back from Vegas. Because, as he said, "It's like, 'Hey, had a really great time. See you in three weeks,' is a jackass move." And I said, "I don't think you are a jackass. I think this sucks, but I don't think you are a jackass."
So, I guess there is hope.
I keep telling myself: Plenty of women have gone through worse. So I don't get to see him for three weeks. I lived without him for 30 years, right? It's not that big of a deal.
What doesn't kill me will only make me stronger.
Blech, someone slap the cheese out of me please!
4 comments:
*SMACK!*
Hey, that's what I was going to post! :)
OK, both of you can stop taking me literally now!
I'm so happy for you - and I LOVE the name Victor -- such a strong, sensible, good name.
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