Having sex with him didn’t make me feel better. It made me feel worse. I don’t think that was a great idea. It was almost as if he couldn’t wait to get away from me. He was up at 6am when we had our fight and left for his assessment at 7am. He came back to mine at 2pm and immediately threw into the conversation that he wouldn’t be staying at mine in case he had the interview tomorrow and because he had shit to do. We went out for coffees, got back to mine and he made his escape as soon as he possibly could…. Despite the fact he didn’t have the interview tomorrow. It was now next week.
I got Jock that fucking job. I applied for the job for him and yet he still couldn’t stay with me tonight to celebrate together the fact that he had got through to the next round. Actions speak louder than words he said when we were first talking about sorting our shit out. He’s right. His actions are saying a thousand words. More than his actual words could ever say. I can’t ever get time with him, or a phone call from him, or a text from him. If he does come and see me, its on his terms. He stays for however long he wants. He leaves when he wants. Normally as soon as he possibly can. He came over, enjoyed dinner at my expense, fucked me and then left after spending the most minimal amount of time possible with me. I’m bleeding now. I guess he has no use for me now I can’t put out.
I was meant to be using him for sex last night and although I might have at least gotten laid, I certainly don’t feel very good about it. I feel worse. I feel used. I feel used and not worth spending time with. I told him that I felt we had gone too far to ever get back what we had before and he told me I was wrong, and we would get through this shit time together. How the fuck are we meant to get through this together when I’m the one making all the fucking sacrifices? I’m not worthy of his time. He didn’t bother coming to mine until 8pm. He was asleep at midnight, snoring his head off and literally keeping me awake until 3am. He then woke me up again at 6am, turning the lights on and fucking around with bits of paper, asking me stupid question, and then left at 7am. Then he was back at 2pm and gone by 5pm. In, out, job done. That’s what I feel like. I don’t feel like he wants to come and see me. He’s doing it because he MUST see me; because I expect it of him. Not because he wants to. It’s making me feel like shit.
I wish I could cut ties like the badass bitch I pretend to be to everyone else. I want to hate him so much but I can’t. I’m like a fucking sap. I keep running back for more like some unloved puppy. It’s ridiculous. I applied for that job for him to show him that I always had faith in him. I knew he’d get invited back for the second round interview, and I’d like to bet money on the fact that he’ll get the job too. And it will be the worst thing to ever happen to us. I even had to remind him that he should probably thank me, and if he did get the job, he needs to take me out for dinner. That sparked a row of course; apparently he’d already said thanks when he first got the email about it, and I shouldn’t keep expecting so much from him.
I had all that faith in him. I always have faith in him. I never gave up on him. Even now, I’m still fighting like the mug I am, wallowing in self pity whilst he’s probably doing something else more fun like hanging out with The Redneck, or enjoying boy-time with The Columbian who seems to be going through an even shitter time with his girlfriend.
When is my heart gonna catch up? This just isn’t the same anymore 😦