Ping pong

Friday, August 20, 2015

I ricochet all over the place right now. I just spent a fabulous afternoon with the delightful Abby Case. We had lunch, drank (dear god, 2 tall beers, a shot of tequila & a margarita) and just talked. I adore her. She makes me feel whole and healed and wonderful in places I didn’t realize were hurting. She’s still convinced (as is Steve) that Brad is a stupid child and that he’s gonna come to his senses and be devastated, but she agrees with me that even if it’s true, it’ll be too late. Sad for all of us, because it’s such a magical thing when you like — really like — other couples together. Brad didn’t just fuck it up for himself and me, he fucked it up for all four of us.

But meh, whatevs, I’m over it. Seriously. That sounds flippant, but it’s really not. He’s been such an ass for the last few weeks that I don’t want to have anything to do with it. I’m done.

We are at her kitchen table chatting about Steve G (she’s a fan…) and Brad hey-tell’s me. “Hey Sandi, I just got 4 tickets to the Renaissance Festival for this weekend. I have one, maybe two extra — do you want one or did you already get a ticket.?”

Screech. Back. up. This weekend, tomorrow, is his birthday and we’d been planning to go to the Ren Faire _forever_. Like since January. Even when we broke up, we agreed we were still going together. He started a Facebook group to organize it. I was the first to accept.

Then he became this ass that I don’t want to be around. I looked at the list of who was going on Tues, and realized it was Brad, me, Whitney and a bunch of folks I don’t know well. So I decided that looks like not a lot of fun and declined the invite and thought no more about it. I guess he didn’t notice.

My response: No, thanks a lot but I don’t think I’m going to go. You have a good time.
Him: Whaaaat? Why aren’t you going?
Me: It’s your birthday man, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. Have fun.
Him: I wouldn’t be uncomfortable. You’re silly. I’d take you.
Me: Ok, here’s the deal. I do want to go, but I looked at the list of people going on Facebook and there wasn’t really anyone on the list that I could like hang out with except you and I don’t want you to have the responsibility of entertaining me all day. Are there other people going that I don’t know about that I can hang out with? Help me here. What do you want me to do?
Him: There really aren’t a lot of girls going, Abby can’t go, Christine can’t go now…but I mean, it’s a big group of people, you don’t have to be ‘with’ anybody.
Him: But yes, I think you should come.
Me: Well, gimme a minute. Do you have someone else who wants the extra ticket? I gotta work through some stuff.
Him: Uh, no. I just have one for me and one for Whit and one for Dave, maybe, I haven’t called him yet. But I figure there will be other people who don’t have them yet so I just got four.
Me <after a significant pause so I could stop cussing>: Yeah, I don’t think it’s gonna work out. You guys have a great time.
Him: Alrighty. Have a good weekend.

And just like that, I’m livid again. HOW THE FUCK DARE HE. Did he really have to tell me that he bought a ticket for her? And did he really think that telling me that would get me to come? WTF.He HAS to know that was a stupid and hurtful thing to tell me. She’s the fucking thorn. Are you fucking serious right now?

Breathe. Breathe. I long for the day he doesn’t have the power to hurt me. Apparently, it’s not today.

On the flip side, Steve G told me that mine was the ‘first number he’s scored in 17 years”. lol. :) Maybe it’s good that I’m free this weekend. Hah!