On the rebound

It has now occurred to me that the Viking was, in fact, my rebound guy, even though I told him very specifically that that was exactly what I didn't want him to be. And even though we never went on an actual date. And even though he really expressed no interest other than "sure I'll go out with you some day." When I lay out all the cold facts like this, all I can say to myself is "What was I going on about?" All my emotional turmoil and romantic frustrations were focused on this one poor man and obsessing on whether he might ever be interested in me. Maybe all the pain and drama of the Viking saga (all of it self-inflicted, I realize) will be worth it in the end, and I can now start thinking about moving on with the next chapter of my life, this time with maturity.

Wisdom from Sixteen Candles: "That's why they call them crushes. If they were easy, they'd call them something else."


I updated my mySpace profile to say that I was ready to date again, and maybe somebody will fall for it. I think that I actually believe it too. I guess I need to get through the move first. Of course, before I can do that, I need to pack. I've got the apartment now, with my little empty bedroom waiting for me. My roommate is there already. But I'm still here in the Ex's house.

The Ex has a weekend visitor. A romantic one. They're not staying here, however; they're staying at a friend's. Rather generous of them, actually. As you all know, I've done my share of whoring around since the breakup. But I can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy. At the same time: good for him. I don't have a heart of stone.

I don't feel depressed any more, but I'm overwhelmed with inertia lately. I just can't motivate myself to achieve anything useful these days. I've just got to figure out how to slug through all my various tasks, at work and in home life. I can do it. I can do it. I can do it.