I broke the world land speed record from first "date" to brushoff - again. My tentative date with G on Friday didn't happen; in fact, when he finally called, around 7:30 that night, he told me that he doesn't have room in his life right now for me. He phrased it nicely; he acted with honor; I'm not angry with him, or even, for a change, with myself. It just isn't going to happen. I was having drinks & dinner at Jack with my new friend S. and a friend of hers, they were very nice; and then I went to the Westville for a few PBRs with my friend J, and then I went home and raged and cried and ranted and listened to Genesis Duke, which has been my bum out album since time immemorial, and worked through it.
So yeah, it sucks, I am now heading right back into another year of celibacy and solitude, well okay. It's not like I'm not used to it. I woke up yesterday, throat still raw from crying, took a lexapro and forced myself to work like a crazed dog in the garden for five hours straight. Today I feel better, except my shoulders & back are killing me, and the garden looks AWESOME. And I'll stay on the lexapro for a while; and be more careful, and not let myself out of my shell again. Sometimes it is better to be safe than sorry; obviously, given the emotional ups & downs of the last four weeks, due in large part to my sudden foray into casual sex, I'm better off staying well the hell away from the opposite sex.