About One hour and 10 minutes ago I was nervous because I knew that I was running late myself. I knew that I would not be there when I said that I would and this would mark me "Undependable". We would be off on the wrong foot and it would be a bad start to what I would hope could have the possibility of a beautiful relationship.
But now....
but Now, here I am. In my apartment. Alone.
It started with an "I'm running late..." You have gotten that phone call before. At first I did not think anything of it. He said "Yeah just wait for me in the parking lot, I will be there in 10 minutes." After 20 minutes had passed I called. "Listen, this is TOTALLY not me, I am so sorry, I got tied up doing this thing for a friend, and blah blah blah blah blah."
"It's okay," I assured him. I didn't want him to think I was anxious on our first date. He told me that he would meet me in 5 minutes. That was 40 minutes ago. He told me to wait in the parking lot and I told him I thought I should just wait at my apartment.
Now I am glad that I am not still in the parking lot. 20 minutes of waiting and I was already on the drug store to buy the razors, Lord knows what would have happened if I had been stuck waiting any longer.
When I got home I made myself busy. I did all of the dishes in the sink (including the ones left by my roommate). I cleaned off ALL of the countertops in the kitchen and then cleaned off the sink and countertop in my own bathroom. I have already made my bed.
After 30 minutes had passed from the initial 5 that I was promised I decided it was an ample amount of time for me to have waited to call him back.
I called.
It rang.
Voicemail.
It's official. I am being stood up.
Now I am hungry. I did not get to go to yoga. We had originally planned on going to a yoga class together. I had been excited about this for a number of reasons. I have not been to a class in over a year and I need to get back into the swing of things. I had rested assure that if I did not turn out to be all that he had hoped for in person then I would have at least gotten one yoga class behind my belt.
Now what do I have to show for this night?
An empty stomach, a flabby ass, and an overwhelming emptiness that creeps up when shit like this happens.
The empty feeling doesn't spring from the fact that it was THAT individual that stood me up. It really doesn't even come from being stood up. The origin lies within the simple sadness of the idea that nobody out there wants to be with me. Its an idea, not a reality. Of course I understand this part, but you have to know what feeling I am talking about, when all you want to do is get into the bathtub and stay until it goes cold on you and your skin wrinkles up.
I'll call one more time.
And then I will call Domino's (he's the only boyfriend that ALWAYS delivers).
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