Another New Years

Just a few more hours to go. 

Looking back, last year's New Years resolution has had some unexpected challenges. This was definately not the year i was expected, but atleast my resolution has gone well. Giving up on  and getting over you.

364 days without speaking to Jo. I will admit it was hard in the beginning. No good morning texts or how's your day texts. And even more difficult; no drunk texts.

At least i haven't had the added pressure of not responding to messages from you as there has yet to be one. 

I didn't think i would get through January. Definately not February with its stupid valentine's day and cold nights. But I held strong. Stoic really. I thought about calling you to tell you how strong I'm being but...

It's certainly not that i haven't wanted to talk to you. That's not the problem at all. I've wanted to call you and tell you that i miss you. That I want to see you. I want to let you know how great we could be together in more than just the bedroom. Me not talking to you is more like a side effect of the fact that you don't give a shit about me. Never have never will. And i was tired of waiting around for you to be interested and not just late at night randomly. If you were ever actually going to be interested in me it would have happened by now.

Then March hit. Covid, self isolation, flatten the curve, do your part, yada ya. Took a little pressure off with no Saint Patrick's day celebrations or parties but added some too. Long nights. Lonely hours.

I thought maybe I would hear from you. What would i say? But nothing. The hardest part of being ghosted is when the person you're ghosting thinks so little of you that they don't even realize you are doing it.

But I guess that was always the problem. You thinking very little of me and me rearranging trying to make an "us" that you just weren't interested in.

See, this all started last New Years Eve. You  weren't messaging me back after we had spent the night together on boxing day. 1,2,3,4 days pass and no response. I tried everything from "whats up" to sending you funny memes. I sent you 23 messages to be exact. In retrospect, maybe that was a little excessive and didn't exactly help the situation. 

Your lack of reply gave me all kinds of time for scrolling instead of enjoying the New Years Eve party I was at. By myself.

So i'm scrolling and scrolling and what do i come across? You. At Ginos. With Patty. In matching New Years Eve top hats. With your arm around her. With her lips on your face. While you are smiling. 

You probably didn't know I went to high school with her. We called her pass around Patti for very obvious reasons. We are Facebook friends so it's not unusual for a photo to pop up on my feed of her sucking face with someone but i never expected that the person would be you.

I guess you could say I was passed up for pass around Patty. Well, that put my anger in overdrive and i made the resolution that i would never talk to you again. And if i could make it through a year without any contact I'd have the habit of you kicked. I may have also left the party immediately in tears, walked past Ginos on my way home and keyed your car but none of that can be proven.  

So just like that i was done. No more messages. No more phone calls. No more late night drives to your place. No more waiting by the phone just in case u were feeling lonely… or horny...or whatever need it was of yours I was filling. 

Although I continue to stalk your social media accounts I have been silent. Although you didn't share Patty's New Years Eve smoochy photos you did share your February ski trip: with her. Your family birthday supper: with her. Being quarantined: with her. I haven't liked any of them and you certainly wouldn't want to hear what my comments would say.

It wasn't a break up. More of a wake up. You had made it very clear you weren't looking for a girlfriend or a relationship. Although clearly that just meant no relationship with me. You were open to one with someone else, anyone else, even Patty.

Day 252 was hard. Kind of expecting a call, part of me would have settled for just birthday sex. Of course I drank too much while staring at my phone waiting for this. I wrote you atleast 40 messages with varying themes. I miss you. Want to come over? And of course some were more of the rot in hell variety. Fortunately I did not hit send on any of them.

So here i am now. A full 364 days later except this year no party unless you call me and my cat in my living room powering through the second bottle of wine one. If someone was looking in the window I must look painfully pitiful.

I prefer to think of myself as powerfully pathetic. Like, I'm strong, I don't need anyone but in a crying in my wine glass kind of way. 

Maybe that's what the phrase water down the wine is all about?

I gathered the few pieces I had of yours up over the holidays and put them in a box. A small box. You would think there should be more. Four years of waiting, hooking up and thinking I'm playing some kind of game where I could win the grand prize: you. All that's in it is a flannel you left, a key chain you gave me from your work and your ticket stubb from a concert we went to that must have fell out of your pocket. I had saved that for a scrap book that never needed to be made. This box of useless momentos has haunted me, my cat and this bottle of wine all night and as I drop each peice in the fire place I picture your face in the items dancing in the flames. The smell of burning flannel spreads a putrid air through the room that seems fitting. 

Unfortunately i can't really throw my phone in the flame so deleting will have to do. I'm so lame, who saves this many screen shots? They range from "hey beautiful" to the patented "u busy" with a sprinkling of sexual innuendos. Classy. How did it take me so long to see through this?

A couple selfies where I look like I'm holding on to you just a little too tight and your smile seems strained, or fake. My favourite one was the one from Canada Day 3 years ago. We almost looked like a couple on a vacation down south. Your skin so sunkissed and chest so perfect without a shirt.

Delete. Delete. Delete. I delete them all.

Now there really is nothing left. 

As the countdown starts I get the feeling that it's really over and as that sinks in I realize that I'm ok with it. Good really. No more waiting. Wondering. Excuses. You really weren't boyfriend material anyway. Not what I wanted. Not really all that cute either when i really think about it. Can't carry on a conversation either unless it's about sports or your stupid work either.

I finish the last of what's in my glass. All that's left of the fire is glowing embers with a glint of silver from your work key chain that apparently isn't going to burn. I will sweep it into the garbage in the morning with the rest of the ashes.

I turn off the lights in the living room and head to bed. My empty bed. I scroll through the New Years' wishes, platitudes, and drunken photos of people that have clearly had a more exciting night than I have. A stoic sigh falls from my lips almost masking the ping of a notification. Expecting a Happy News Years message from a drunken well wisher I open up my messages.

Just 3 words, 3 words shouldn't make my heart stop like this. Just seeing the face bubble sends a flutter. 

Happy New Years! 

Next to Jo's face.