Avoid the call at all costs. I wish I could be there to lend you strength and moral support.
Do you play any violent video games? I could write an Unreal Tournament level for you. You could blow 'em up real good!
We should talk by IM. I am home alone for the weekend again; the wife went to Cleveland for another home show, so I’m down to surfing and sleeping.
Don’t you dare let him spoil your birthday!
(Yesterday was the last day of the first of your life.)
You will start to get past this when you refuse to reopen the wound.
In the meantime, shred old clothes and scream into pillows. (I like the voodoo doll idea.)
Decide on something that you really want to do for yourself. Maybe a trip? Begin planning it. Read everything you can about it. Save for it. Focus on it. Get out of Dodge for a while.
(And of course I remember you.)
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
Don’t worry y’all. I wouldn’t call him if he was the last man on the planet who had access to a supply source, food and the complete Harry Potter works. He can NOT kiss my see-through white ass. 
And trubl, for lack of a better way to say this… I’ll get right on that cake. Which is infinitely more filling. 
Mr. Hermit (wonder if I’ll ever get used to that name versus your old one?), I’m about to head out to work for the evening, then I’ll be waitressing from 6:00 AM until mid-afternoon, Texas time. Perhaps we could chat sometime Saturday night. I think my AIM information is in my profile, but if not, I’m under hopeandfaithfool.
Plus, blowing up shit is always good. Thanks once more everyone.
Faithfool, I’m sorry my post… um… inspired your to write that seriously cool sentence about shivery eyeballs…
Here’s a hug for you if you need one.
But really; I’ve had a few times in my life where I was spending wayyy to much energy and thoughts on a dead relationship. I would mourn, be angry, I would vaguely cook up ideas about what I might have done to save the relationship (usually followed by having to suppress the urge to act on those ideas :rolleyes: )…I got just so damned fed up with myself! Wasn’t it enough that I had wasted so much time in that lousy relationship? Did I really need to waste even MORE time mourning about it? After a while, I felt that mourning just amounted to prolonging the relationship. I had already learned the lessons; the pain just prevented me from putting what I learned into practice. The only - not very big - advantage to mourning was that I stopped dealing with the toxic person in the flesh, so the cycle of mourning-anger-hope gradually (but much, much TOO gradually!) extinguished.
Floating around in our cultural database are contradictory idea’s, memes, about ending a relationship and starting a new one. There 's the meme: “you need to get over a relationship before entering a new one”. Another one says: “the best way to get over a love is to get under a new love”. IMHO, those memes are not laws to live by; how could they, contradicting each other? They just exist because we need to rationalize the way we *feel * about our personal situation. In reality, life is both simple and complicated then those laws; what works, works, but you’ll never know beforehand what will work.
Maybe I just don’t see the point in suffering as much as I used to. 
Lessons are learned indepently of suffering… I even think lessons are actually better learned, when the suffering isn’t prolonged or too great. Having learned a lesson yes, getting traumatized, no thanks.
For me, I did not really feel like dating after my break-up, either. At the time, I’d rather brood and lick my wounds some more, and part of me was just traumatized. Men, blech. But I enrolled in a dating site anyway, for much the same reason I jump in when the water is cold, instead of going in one toe at the time.
Within a few weeks, I met someone who was so wonderful, so delightful, so much fun to be with, (you remember “fun”, don’t you? 
) and so damned appreciative of me (remember appreciative?), that I forgot totally about my ex. And by forgetting, I don’t mean thinking, about ten times a day: “Hah! See how much fun I have without you?!”.
No, I mean the kind of forgetting, where Ex unexpectedly calls on the phone, and you have to think a for a split second: “Ex?..Oh, that EX!”
Living well is the best revenge.
See-through white ass? Prime, prime.
The only reason my exes can’t call me is that they don’t have the numbers which currently reach me. (I am so glad for this) The eleventh, however, was kind of sucky. It’s an ex’s birthday. How I wish I could find a way to remove that piece of information from my brain forever.