I originally deleted this post so that should Kirk stumble upon this blog, he wouldn't know the extent to my life and therefore have no additional reason to flip out on me.
Evidently I care no longer.
I messaged him. Tarek. It was a stumbling, rambling, indefinite bit of jabber but it got the job done: he's clearly very upset about my inability to love him back. As such I've found the motivation I needed to delete him from Facebook and even the messages between us. I wish it wasn't, but deleting someone on Facebook is the greatest way to ease into a life without them.
I'm surprisingly ok with this move, too. I keep dwelling on how upset he obviously is but nothing quite taps into my old, guilt-tripping Self as dwellage does. It's liberating and empowering to stop oneself and actually succeed in distracting that part of my self-deprecating brain.
And I just dropped my phone into my tea. Ironic too, as I was about to attest to my increasing tea consumption and how British that makes me feel. I guess I have a lot still to learn about being British, as I can't imagine many of them take much time to steep their phones like I just did.
On a continuous note with regards to the theme prior to my phone tangent, I deleted Dexter and blocked his number. Kirk's too. I feel pitifully lonely and mildly sick, as both of them are currently ripping me apart via text message, but other than that, though...I'm sure there's a part of me deep, deep down that is doing alright. I did say "deep", right? K, just making sure. Naomi and my sister are so far my most effective painkillers. Let's hope my inevitable insanity stays subdued long enough to trick them into thinking I'm nice to be around. I don't quite know what I'd be like on my own. Perhaps I wouldn't be at all.
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