I was right; the writing is what kept me up. They were gone; only Mom was there. I made some superficial-feeling small-talk about what was for dinner and what this or that was on the calendar, an then I asked her if she wanted to see B&B on Saturday. Then I told her about what had happened, and how Zelda had known B&B was what I had wanted to see with her since last Saturday. I don't think she really knew what to say. She commented that "Well, that's kind of weird." I had been reliving the thing at this point and so was practically cry-whining when I replied "That's why it hurts!" I then went to my room and found a pillow to cry into. I've taken it downstairs for that purpose, under the theory that being in the basement will be good for me. Besides, I don't want to associate this with my bedroom; it's not "home" because I don't really live here so much (and besides we moved fairly-recently), so it doesn't carry security; I figure any room I do have the stronger emotions in will be one I will tend to associate this with. I don't go to the basement much (well, other than this room that my computer is in), and besides there's something about being underground.
I haven't cried for a good while. Unless you count movie-induced. But the music cooperates there. And it's not out of pain so much as it is pity.
This sting will probably stay with me for some time. This is worse than if she had rejected me from the start. Assuming, that is, that my previously mentioned best case scenarios aren't the case.
I wonder when I will approach another female. Or if I will. Perhaps I will create an artificial intelligence that is more human than I am, after having retreated into myself socially. Ok, so that one was from "The Turing Option", a book I read earlier this summer. The story did cross my mind, though, as I headed home from their house.
It's a good thing it's Friday. The fact that I'm "only a temp" means I don't *have* to show up for work; I can call in absent a lot easier than a regular employee can. If tomorrow was a work day I'd stay home. I know the concept that work is a good way to forget things like this, but there's too much empty time to think about things there. I can't face this all day long. Right now I'm not sure if I'll be able to do it on Monday. One of the main things making work bearable was her, or at least thoughts that I had a good thing going. Now I'll have this to anguish over, and little else to fill my thoughts. Today I even noticed it creeping in; the nothingness. If you have a very boring job, you can get into something of a trance. It makes the work seem to go a lot faster, but the only reason it works is because you're not really paying attention. To anything. It's like giving up your soul for an hour. And I don't think I can justify damaging my mind that much for $9.50 an hour.
I'll go on Monday, out of loyalty; after all, today I said I'd be there.
It's time to start finding something productive. I will turn my attentions to programming again. It will keep me busy, and it will keep my mind off of Zelda, and it might even be worth more than $9.50/hr, in the long run.
I'm going back to the basement, and I'm going to cry a little longer.
I haven't cried over anything in a long, long time.
Hey, I'd forgotten: I cried once a few weeks ago. It was a family thing. But the last time before that was at least nine years ago.