Looking for a Dick, not an Ass. Apply within!

Yesterday I was torn. Last night I asked the advice of a trusted friend, and she told me to go for it. So I did. This is what I sent J:

"hello. just so there isn't/wasn't any confusion, the letter i gave you wasn't an attempt on my part to sever any or all communication between us. all i was trying to get was a sense of closure, and unfortunately i wasn't entirely successful. but anyway. i was just wondering how college life is treating you so far. i hope you're doing well. and being safe. and happy."

His response went a little something like this:

"i know the letter wasn't an end to communication, i just haven't had anything to say. i'm having a great time here. meetings lots of new people and loving life. oh, and you need to move on. so, how's new york?"

I guess there really was no reason for me to be surprised, but... I was. I've had this feeling in my heart that he's felt the same way about me for the past two months that I've felt about him, and knowing that he's never the one to make a first move, I finally bit the bullet and tried it. And it couldn't have possibly gone any worse. He seriously told me to move on with my life, which is essentially his polite way of saying he doesn't give a shit about me, and then proceeded to pretend to be interested in how my senior year is going. It's probably best for you to envision me *not* crying at this point, regardless of the truth.

So. The 'fantasy' that I've been playing over and over in my head for the past two months has been officially and brutally knocked down. Sometimes I get so angry at myself that I get sick. For better or for worse, there is one moment that I will always, always remember about J: the afternoon that he came over to my house just to say hi. I walked to his car, and realized that he'd brought a friend of his that I'd never met. He introduced us, and she was very sweet. I then noticed that his one hand was behind his back, so I gave him a weird look. He blushed, looked at the ground, and pulled out a handful of roses wrapped in a paper towel. He kept mumbling about how stupid they were, but had it not been for his friend standing there, the fact that we were standing in broad daylight, and my parents standing in the driveway nearby, I would have burst into tears and given him a huge hug for making me feel so special out of nowhere.

But that was then, and this is now. Temporary relief from our "talk" was brought when yesterday's SIH sent me a message today:

"yo i messed my self while i was hard and im 9.3" so when we gonna fuck :-)"

Seriously, some people just never learn. But at least I'm semi-amused in the process.

Finally, I have recently arrived at the conclusion that fiestada and I are in need of a manly auction of sorts. I am hereby declaring a casting call of all men in the greater Baltimore/DC metropolitan area! Are you one? Do you know one? Send 'em our way! Sexuality doesn't matter, we can figure out the logistics down the road (I can't imagine it would be too difficult). The only rule is this: the men cannot be liars, assholes, cheaters, or dabble in douchebaggery. Any men found in violation of this rule will be offered a swift kick in the nuts.

I'm Listening To:
One Thing I Did Today: