Speak too soon.

How embarrassing that I have to almost repeat myself...

After I wrote that "positive" blog, I spent the weekend with Anthony. We had a disturbance which caused us to argue, just like the old days; at his place, voices raised. How de' ja fucking vu of us! For once, I told him I wasn't there to argue and asked him not to just shut me out and walk away from our fight. He sat on the couch, calmed down and within minutes he was back to normal. I had won. I had finally got him to work through something then and there, deal with it, and move on. It was a break through, aside from the fact that fighting had put him back in to the mind state, "we don't work, we never will." Something I was hoping wouldn't happen for at least another few weeks.

Perhaps my last post was too optimistic, or I am just in denial. Or perhaps, Anthony is actually playing my strings like a puppet in his sad "leading you on" play. Whatever it is, I crumbled! I'm not the strong girl that gets over a one year relationship with someone who has meant more to me than the other someone who I thought meant the most to me. Hanging out, being so great for a couple of weeks, his gestures... I guess I read too much in to it. I got upset. I slept with him Saturday night. Maybe I knew I couldn't do it anymore and I had to say goodbye. He was soft. His lips were familiar but exciting. It had been over a month since I'd been in this position and I wanted it back in my life, today, tomorrow, always? He touched me with admiration and looked up at me with shy eyes. He kissed my body softly and held me. I really liked it.

When I had spoken to him earlier that day, I questioned if we could "see where it would go". He said he was too scared to commit to me just in case he hurt me more down the track. It broke my heart to think he didn't feel the same way I had thought he felt. I'm usually never wrong with my intuition. It suddenly dawned on me...

Guys fall in love with me. Usually, well, every time, it has been their first time falling in love. It's daunting and scares them, so they do what every guy does when they don't feel in control... they become selfish and treat you poorly- saying "we don't work." They run for the hills... because I could be the one. I am the perfect "one" for anyone willing to accept it. I figured it out a long time ago, therefore I began waiting for someone who I felt was ready. Then I met Anthony. He was searching for wife material. I thought it would be perfect. Now he's running so far away from me.

So I said goodbye, the best way I know how, the same way I did in Japan... I reminded him how good the sex was. The next morning he offered me breakfast but I got dressed, watched the weather report and left. That afternoon during a conversation with him that would of usually led to, "Wanna come over and watch a movie?", I told him I couldn't do it anymore and I wanted him to leave me alone. He seemed somewhat shocked, "So I can't come by and say hey, or nothing?". Please, just get out of my head.

I was a fool to think I was even ready for a friendship. I got so caught up in missing him from my normal routine that I pretended to be fine just to have the company back. Silly girl. It was like breaking up all over again.

Surprisingly today I'm feeling fine.

I know he will come back. Not now, not next week, maybe not even next month but give him two months and he will be begging to talk to me again. I'm not an idiot. I know I'm a catch, I know he loves me.. we had something amazing.

Now all I need to do, is count down the days, delete all contact, memory, any evidence of someone I once adored and move the fuck on. My new project is Louie. The more he takes up my time lately, the more I've started seeing the potential in him for a friendly fuck around. He's tall, broad shouldered, tanned and funny. Things I didn't see two weeks ago when we met. Who's to say what I might see in him in another two weeks?

Don't roll your eyes. I'm not looking for a relationship. I just want to date someone and not have the serious emotion and pressure involved. Maybe I've watched too much Sex and the City lately cause all I keep thinking about is how many men they actually fuck.

I will post this entry, close my laptop and do what I do almost every night; I close my eyes and spread out in my bed to pretend it's better sleeping alone than having your man push you to the edge. I then run through the motions of Anthony's memories in my head, try and kill my montage with a positive reassurance that I'll be ok. I then think about someone else and force my head to dream of some fantasy with an amazing guy I may or may not have met yet. And every morning is the same, I wake up feeling restless because I haven't slept a decent nights sleep since we broke up.

Go figure.