Stood up again, naturally.

Left the last entry as I realised I was running a bit late to somewhere where I had agreed to meet the semi-imaginary-one (though was still safely going to beat him there).  The Chinese New Years thing.

I got there and quickly bumped into some friends I hadn't seen in a while and watched street food encourage their preschooler to meltdown, forcing them to go home early.

Then as I was starting to wonder when the semi-imaginary-one was going to get there, I bumped into my other favourite Claire (both my Claires in one day is a very good thing).  So I hung out with her and her spawn while I waited.  Finally getting a text that he would be a bit late.

Long story short, it was about two hours after that, and after the fireworks had finished and everything had closed up leaving me going to Countdown as it was the only place open to waste some time, that he finally admittedly he wasn't coming and that when he got home it would be to sleep so I should go home myself.

He didn't apologise, or acknowledge at all that he had fucked me around, again.

The thing is I am not even disappointed in him.  This is pretty much exactly how he has always treated me - if a bit more on the nose because when we were making plans earlier in the day the fact he tended not to consider me in his priorities had come up.  (I can read the sentence to make sense, but it is awfully constructed, but my brain is too frazzled to fix it.)

I am disappointed in myself for having grown up to be such a stupid fucking twat that I continue to hope that things will work and believe the best about someone who has spent years treating me poorly - when he bothers to acknowledge me at all.

I don't know why I love someone who has done nothing to deserve it.
I am pretty angry at myself for it.

I am not sure I have the mental strength to survive him but I don't seem to have the strength of character to walk away, either.  (I moved commas in that sentence several times and nothing seemed right.  I really should read that Eats, Shoots and Leaves book.)

What had been a pretty good day (mostly due to Claires) ended with me walking home at 2300ish, crying the street the way the manliest of men do.

Also, a bunch of young people are very thoroughly cleaning a neighbouring house at this time of night.  I am assuming it is a murder scene that will never be found.



Also WTF, Scoop.it has some of my blog entries.  Even I am not interested in my blog - why the hell is some content curating site linking bits of it.