The new semester started for him a few weeks after mine. He was studying to get a doctorate in blah-bitty-blah. And we had talked about how he wouldn't have as much time to really talk to me in the new semester.
But some how in the first month we found it easy to find time to skype and call. We had endless time on the phone to pick a couple's song, which I still can't listen to without cringing, and we had endless time to talk about why I was so unwilling to let him into my little walled up village I call emotions.
And eventually he broke down the little walled up village and sucked me into him.
It was at this point in time that I felt that I was done.
D.O.N.E.
We'd been friends for almost a year and a half... it wasn't a spur of the moment decision.
I don't let many people past my walls. 1 in 10000 get to see behind my exterior, and for a guy to get past the walls... to have me really let him in, I trusted him so much. I adored him, and I thought that trust and adoration meant I was done. The psychic... she said that he was gonna be good for me!
About a week after I was d-o-n-e, done, he started bringing up his ex-girlfriend. His anger towards her was staggering. We'd talked about her in the past, but never in the present tense... This is when he brought up how he'd been calling her, and I was hurt. I was a little pissed off, and I told him.
He slowly began pulling away, after I confronted him, but he didn't outright say, we're done. I still felt as though we had something and that this was just a rough patch. I thought, "maybe he just needs to get this out of his system."
So I stopped calling, waiting for him to make the move, but if I waited for him to call... I'd wait 3+ days. I started calling again, he'd talk for a few minutes and then leave me with a dial tone as he ran off to study with his study group for some test.
It was a horribly rough semester for me. I was taking 5 grad classes as an undergrad, trying to maintain my 3.7 gpa. I had taken on a second little in my sorority, whom I love dearly, but taking a little is time consuming, as is a sorority in general. I was interning 20 hours at a really great internship downtown. I was getting maybe 3-4 hours of sleep every night, and on top of that, my great aunt was dying, and she had been like a 3rd grandmother to me.
My Aunt Billie used to make me little outfits for my barbies and ty beanie babies. She taught me how to sew pillows, and when I went to visit my mom's mom, she was usually always there. I loved her very dearly. And here I was 1300 miles away and couldn't visit her. I couldn't be there to see her, to hold her hand, to even comfort my family.
I was struggling. Physically, my immune system hates me, and I was getting sick every 3 weeks. Emotionally, it was like being in an emotional blender of constant drama.
On top of all this, Can-Can Boy insisted that 30 minutes of conversation time every 3-4 days was too much for him to manage, but he seemed to be making massive amounts of time for his study group and school chums, including a certain blonde girl who kept popping up in pictures...
So when Aunt Billie died somewhere in the depths of October, I knew that he was busy, but I just needed to talk to him. My roommates were all out. And I desperately needed someone to talk to. To have him comfort me, but when I called him that night, I didn't get a "aww honey, I'm so sorry."
I got a "Why the fuck are you calling me? I have a mid term tomorrow. LoRo, you have no idea what I'm going through right now. I'm studying for a fucking doctorate. I cannot talk to you all the fucking time."
"Ok, I just needed someone to talk to since my aunt just died, but I get that you're busy."
I hung up.
For the next two hours, I couldn't stop the ragged cries.
Can-Can Boy kept calling, but I had no urge to answer and I didn't have the ability to answer. See, I have this thing called the 'pissed off phone throw,' which my friend AJ pointed out - evolved during this semester. So my phone was out of my room and on the floor in the living room because I threw it so far.
EA came in when she got home, and after sitting down on my bed (This was no easy task. My room was a shit show), she took my head in her lap and let me sob.
At some point she left, and I finally picked up one of Can-Can Boy's phone calls (she brought me my phone).
He apologized profusely, but to be honest, I have no idea what he said afterwards. My ears were ringing; my head was pounding, and I could barely open my eyes. I could barely breathe through the snot and panic. He was the least of my problems.
So I hung up.
A few weeks later Can-Can Boy and I were still having these problems with time management. I had been taking a brilliant class with an absolutely brilliant professor who was like me, always busy. He had gotten to a point in his life where he had to schedule appointments with his daughters so that he could see them. He even scheduled wife time.
I thought this sounded like a brilliant plan. Taking the initiative, I brought up my brilliant plan to CCB, but guess what... he wanted no part of it.
"Look, I'm crazy busy right now. I'll have more time for you during Thanksgiving break."
"Like actual skype/phone call time?"
"Yes."
Wrong.
On Thanksgiving day of that year, my non-boyfriend who insisted profusely every day that he loved me... broke up with me.
But for someone who broke up with me... he wouldn't stop texting me. The day after. The day after that. A week after that... I asked him if he thought we were still together and he said yes.
3 weeks after that... He broke up with me again... On Christmas day. My Christmas eve phone call the night before had been, "over the top."
I was really feeling the holiday spirit.
I deleted him from my phone so that I couldn't text him, but guess who couldn't seem to stop texting me.
New Year's Day came and went.
At this point I realized that I had spent my last 2 years of college in relationships, and I had ONE semester left to truly embrace my new-ish sorostitute lifestyle.
I thought "I'm young. I'm not going to get any younger. I'm not going to get any thinner. Why not?"
So I went for it.
To say I jumped in with both feet would be an understatement. I cannonballed into the single life like a bat out of hell.
I don't know if y'all have heard of a slut list or not... best description I can find is here.
But that semester tripled my score. I didn't go jumping every guy that moved, but I sure as shit made out with a Shit Ton of men. At some point in time that semester I agreed to make Molotov Cocktails with a guy, just to ensure a make out afterwards. (No I'm not telling you where we threw them).
But through it all, guess who kept texting.
I told him to stop. I told him I couldn't do it anymore. I told him that he was driving me crazy...
Oh wait.. I skipped a part...
The part where he had a girlfriend (that blonde girl who kept appearing in pictures) in February, an actual-facebook-official girlfriend. When only 2 months prior he told me, he "didn't have time for one." "Didn't have the finances for one." & "was happy with what he had."
Keep in mind January through February he was still texting me. Saying how he missed me, but he couldn't "love me how I wanted to be loved."
Stopped me looking at grad schools in Canballia real quick.
I can't prove that he cheated on our 'emotional relationship.' But to me it seemed so fishy. So fishy, and I really didn't have any reason to doubt him. I had nothing to say, "AHA! LOOK I FOUND YOU!" I had always trusted him, explicitly. Yes I was jealous of the girl in the picture, but I was jealous of everyone in the friggin' pictures that got to hang out with him when I couldn't.
What friggin' pictures? The ones he kept posting on facebook.
But no longer was that my problem.
I wish that this is the point where the story ended, but it's not.
One night after an influx of more texts than I could bear, I told him to stop and only text me or call me when he graduated and had actual time to give me.
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