Dread

On the return of Mr. Dating Debacle from his vacation back home. His car was gone from the parking lot this weekend, which means he's already back in town hiding out at home. Two weeks was not long enough. I need at least another four.

It's so annoying when the quintessential "nice guy" whom everyone loves, treats only you like crap. Especially when he can't lay claim to even an ounce of justification. "Am I crazy?" you start to think. "Has no one else experienced this infuriating crappiness that he's capable of?" His loyal admirers pepper me with questions of "when is he back?" daily, and though I know perfectly well it's Thursday, what I really want to say is "how the f*%^ should I know?"

The optimist in me hopes that his journey home will have revived and refreshed him, knocked some sense into him and made him realize what an ASS he's been. And then he'll be normal and nice to me again. And we can begin that very long and slow journey to becoming friends again. Almost like we used to. Hey, it happens.

The realist in me thinks FAT CHANCE. Immaturity isn't cured overnight or even in a fortnight. You'll have to suck it up and toughen up. Even if it is hurtful as hell to endure it everyday.