When I was growing up, I was convinced that I was an introvert. I enjoyed my time alone, reading or playing on the computer. I kept a journal. I was into Gilmore Girls, rather than 90210. I had a few close friends with whom I enjoyed deep conversations. I didn’t go out much
Then I went to college, started the party life and realized that it was moreso circumstance that preference for me to be used to alone time.
I’ve just texted like three people on my phone in a beg for attention. I am supremely sad that there is nobody in my apartment with whom I can share all the thoughts going on in my head right now. (Hence the blog entry?)
I saw my ex out last night. While this is not a novel occurrence, necessarily, (he was in hibernation for a few months, but recently I’ve seen him regularly out and about) it was a new thing for him to greet everyone I was sitting with. Except for me. In a rather pointed manner. When I got home at 5am, I decided it would be a brilliant idea to call all the numbers in my call log that I didn’t have saved. Because I don’t have his number saved, but I’ve spoken to him on the phone in the past year, so perhaps one of the unsaved numbers would be him. (In hindsight, stupid. I have an app that blocks his number from appearing anywhere on my phone, unless I specifically go into the app to see what it’s blocked.) And I was going to yell at him for being so pointedly rude. And then I was going to ask him if he’s happy. Because I am genuinely curious about what his life is like these days.
He didn’t answer any of the numbers, although a few females did. (I just sat silently on the other end for a second, then hung up.) I went to bed thinking “Ugh, why don’t I have his number?” But really it was for the best.
Then this morning I checked my phone blocker app to see if it had blocked anything from him. (If I had an iota of intelligence, I would have used that to get his number last night, haha. But alas…) And there was a 5am, blocked text from him that read, “My apologies for not saying hi.”
I screamed and threw the phone and got out of bed in a burst of energy and screamed again.
Which is what I want to talk to someone about right now. Specifically my roommate. (Because she has an exboyfriend of the same variety as mine. So she gets it.) Or I wish my current boyfriend was here so that I would have to stifle my emotions and could be distracted from them. Or hell, even if one of my other friends was over and I could be self-indulgent for a moment and gush about it to them. (I can’t do it over text to anyone except my roommate because I pridefully pretend I’m over it. But if the text appeared in their presence, it wouldn’t be overt to talk about it.)
Back in the day, I would have kept this nugget to myself. I’d write about it in my journal and then let it go. But now, I want to share it with the world before I let it go. Because contrary to early Myers-Briggs tests, I’m an ENTJ. Emphasis on the E.