It has now been two weeks and one day since I saw Jeremy. I feel very rejected and unhappy about this, but I’m sublimating it under a layer of righteous indignation. After all, it isn’t polite: we’ve been seeing (were seeing) one another since early December. He shouldn’t not email for two weeks. None of it makes sense, since the last time I saw him everything was great. And then it occurred to me that perhaps he decided he didn’t want to see me when he was in Florida over Christmas, and since then he’s just been seeing me ‘cause I’ve been contacting him. Then his behavior makes perfect sense. Have I been kidding myself for over a month now? The thought is painful, but I’m trying to ignore it in favor of being angry with him for not telling me he wasn’t interested. Maybe I will actually tell him this next weekend.
When I saw Caroline on Thursday we decided I was not going to think about it at all for the next week. That hasn’t really worked.
You know what the worst part is? For the next month, every time the phone rings or I open my email I’m going to hope against hope that he’s contacting me, and every time it isn’t him, I will continue to feel the disappointment I didn’t think I had any more of.