In twelve minutes I go on another date. But I don’t think it’s even a date, because he’s bringing a friend of his for unknown reasons.
But as I merely invited him to go out for some tea, due to the wrenching loneliness in my heart that results when one friend is dying from cancer and you can’t seem to locate any of your other friends in the nearby vicinity, I don’t really care.
I am happy to merely be with people.
For a split moment did it feel like I wasn’t good enough just myself for him, like he didn’t really want to hang out with me and he invited his guy friend to avoid the paralyzing torture that merely hanging out with me alone would induce…But then I brushed that feeling away as I recollected that he was the one that suggested we go out today when my invitation to go out yesterday was rejected.
So now he’s bringing a friend.
Definitely not a date.
And with two minutes on the clock, I just received a text alerting me that he is almost here.
So not only did he reject my first offer to hang out, but he’s bringing a friend, and he’s going to be late.
Winning on all fronts.
I should just give up now.
With my hyper-criticism.
Ironically recalling how when he first met me he mentioned how he needed to hang out with more “positive people”, people like me.
Attempting to live up to that stereotype that he instilled within our first five minutes of meeting.
Writing sentences with no subject that force the reader to guess that all of the previous sentences were incomplete clauses that would more properly begin with the words “I am”.
I break grammar rules all the time.
But that’s a side note.
Back to the main topic.
He’s two minutes late and I got to get over it.
Because if I’m going to attempt to make any new friends…I’m going to have to give them some time to prove themselves.