Thursday, May 19, 2005

Single Sloth

So, I broke up with Michael two nights ago. I don't know if I mentioned that I was planning to do this or not. I can't keep up with what I tell you guys. I went to get a drink with my friend Stephanie so I could get my brolly back (I had left it at her house in a drunken post-bridal shower haze). We went to a certain swanky bar in Central Square. Michael lives across the street from said swanky bar. My ex-boyfriend is the bar manager at said swanky bar. After Stephanie left I called Michael and told him to come over. To sum up: I broke up with Michael in front of my ex-boyfriend at a swanky bar. It was all a bit disconcerting but I'm glad it's over. Since I had been pondering the break-up and my reasons for it for some time, it went amazingly well. For me. It was like I was reading from a script full of profound one-liners. For him, it was not so smooth. He could have used a dress rehearsal, or at least a read-through. I started out with, you know, I'm not mad at you and I'm not even sad about not being with you anymore. You're passionate about a lot of things in your life and I'm not one of those things. Clearly I deserve better than that. Either you're not that into me or this is as much as you are capable of being into anybody. Either way, it's not going to work. He said it was neither. He, apparently, is still not over this other chick and is dealing with that and I was like, dude, why didn't you just break up with me then? I'm not your consolation prize. And I mean, really. Who wants to be with someone who weighs themselves down with useless emotional baggage like that? He told me that he and I got along and had more in common than he ever did with her and it was totally irrational that he was still dealing with that and then he was like, "Great, now I have yet another unresolved emotional wreck to add to the collection." I was like, "Don't worry dude, you'll get over it. I did." He goes, "You're not over it. No one gets over stuff that quick." I said, "I've had two months to get over it. Believe me, I'm over it." And I am. I mean, it's not just that I don't miss him, it's like he never even existed. Finally after an hour or so we left and just before I got in the cab he said, "It feels so weird to just throw cold water over this whole thing." I said, "I'd rather paddle away than go up in flames. Consider yourself lucky." He said, "I don't have a lot of experience with this kind of stuff." And I was like, "Yeah, well, I do." Then I got in the cab. Like I said, it was sort of cinematic. I mean, when do break-ups ever come off without a hitch like that? Anyway, here are today's shoes. I'm wearing the gold sequined ones to the supposed-to-be-super-casual clambake the day before my sister's wedding. Fuck casual. I just spent $400 on a bridesmaid's dress that doesn't fit and looks like it was made by a dirty, starving six-year-old with bleeding fingers in a sweatshop in Taiwan. I have earned the right to wear whatever I damn well please to the clambake and Let. Me. Tell. You. I am going to look fucking fabulous.

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