People Do NOT Change

I am mad at the Principal, but really I can only be mad at myself.  Following a Merry Christmas text the Principal did not contact me the rest of the week.  My sister and brother-in-law were texting me non-stop asking if I had heard about the job yet.  While I hadn't counted on hearing before the new year, I got a call Thursday.  They loved me and felt like they hit the jackpot.  I love being loved!!!

I wanted to wait until the Principal initiated contact before telling him.  He should, after all, be pursuing me.  By Saturday I was pissed.  So what if he is Indiana?  He couldn't take 5 seconds to text me?  Man, he must be over the freaking moon to have another chance with me, right?  Knocking down my door practically.

Stupid me texted him.  And he congratulated me.  And I said thanks.  The end.

He ended up calling me later that night after drinking scotch with his dear old dad.  My heart was in take off position but decided to stay on the tarmac after he went into a rant about his family's bickering.  I listened, read part of my book, scanned Facebook, drank beer, anything that would keep me from going insane.  After about a half hour I interrupted and went into what my family had fought about and my job offer.  He asked a few questions, I thought the conversation was actually starting to take off... then, engine failure.  Back to him.

In the days following I kept the contact up, knowing full well that I deserved to be strung up for such treason to myself.  But the little part of me inside was begging, no starving for some attention knowing I would never be satisfied.  New Year's Eve I gave up.  He could contact me when and if he wanted to.

Julie and I decided to stay home, drink beer alone and occasionally text each other.  Built a fire, drank way too much with the dogs and fell asleep on the couch.  Julie came over the next night to watch me bake cookies and rant about her EX whom she failed to sever contact with.  When I had irritated her enough with my opinions, she asked about the Principal.

"You text that asshole right now and ask if he's still fucking alive."

So I did, and he was.  Just got back into town and was feeling sickly.  I told him to feel better.

"You should have told him to go to hell..."

Nothing the next day.  Which was Wednesday, my cut off day for asking me out for the weekend.  Thursday he texted that he was dying and asked if I had any last requests.  Ha.  Ha ha.  Some sex?  That he would pull his head out of his ass?  In the end I primly responded that if he was dying too quickly for medical care he probably didn't have time for last requests.  He agreed.  Then nothing more from me.

Friday night he left a voice mail at 8pm.  Too late.  I might be doing something at that time of night other than watching the Karate Kid series and Bruce Lee movies.  I called him back and left a voice mail at 1pm the next day.  He didn't feel the need to call me back until close to seven.  I remember this.  I hated this.  Looking at my phone constantly.  Waiting.  Analyzing.  Feeling like I just wasn't exciting enough for him to respond.

I answered this time and he whined about his cold, which he had not yet gone to the doctor for.  As fun as this was to talk about I had promised Julie I would go to a bar with her to "hunt" for available men.  I told the Principal what I needed to get in the shower for and got off the phone.  But when I thought about it, the last place I wanted to go was a bar and listening to Julie talk to guys while I sat there with no one paying any attention to me thinking about how very unappealing I must be to the male species.  Or worse yet, meeting someone who will inevitably ignore me or dump me via text like my most recent ex's. 

So I texted Julie a rain check, took a shower and changed into more comfy sweats and read a romance novel.  (Shut UP Chloe, they are healthier than crack!)  I was enjoying myself, loving the patio fire when I got hit for the second time this week by the justice train.  The Principal was just not that into me.  In the three weeks since he has re-entered my life, but not me because I have a pox against any chance of ever getting laid again, my confidence and happiness has shrivelled.  I have turned into that desperate 28 year old waiting by her phone just in case he decided I was worthy of his attention.  Well, NO MORE.  No more men, no more Principal, no more opportunities for people to walk all over me.  I am a strong person who can take care of herself and a small horde of beasties.

Saturday 11:20pm Me: I am having a great revelation tonight.  You are still not "that" interested in me and I should just stop worrying about it.

The next day: Nothing.

Sunday 9pm Me:  I am interpreting you silence as agreement.

Still nothing.  Seems like his vow to change his flaws and communicate better was extremely short lived.