Date: Sunday, March 22, 2010
Time: Morning
Okay, I know what you’re thinking, what am I still doing talking to Old Greg? Didn’t I say that I would drop kick him in the mangina when I saw him?
Well, I didn’t do that. When we talked to meet up, Old Greg invited me to go to a church because he’d been hired to play the piano. Now Old Greg is not a Christian, so him going to church was a very strange thing, but I agreed to go since I’m a church going gal. And plus, I wanted my stuff back.
So when I saw Old Greg, we met on the subway car. When I saw Old Greg, he had a heinous hair-do, and I thought to myself, “THANK JESUS THAT HE LOOKS SO UNATTRACTIVE!!!!” Conveniently, Old Greg left my stuff at his apartment. He said we could make plans again so that I could get it back. I wonder if he still likes me. For my part, I have to sadly admit that the old familiar feelings of love began springing their way through despite my aversion to his horrible personality and his heinous new do. I couldn’t be mad. I couldn’t hate him. I couldn’t slap him in the face or kick him in the hot spot. I had forgiven him already, and there was no anger left in me. We hugged briefly, and he was wearing the cologne that I had bought him for Christmas. I chose that cologne because it turned me on. So, I lost my nerve to slap him in his face, and instead, we sat down together, listened to music, and he was doing all the talking- talking about the band we were listening to- nothing deep or personal, as I sat silently wondering if he still felt that lovin’ feelin’ or if it was gone, gone, gone, whoa-whoa-whoa.
I wanted to kiss his lips and hold his hand, but I did not. At one point, though, I took his arm and rested my head against his shoulder. He didn’t seem to mind it, but he didn’t seem to encourage anything either. And then, I woke myself up, and told myself that this relationship was doomed to fail. I withdrew my hand and my head so that we were not touching at all. And we just listened to music as we went to the church.
We were a bit early, so we got breakfast, then we went to the church, and he had to practice, so I sat down in a pew the fifth row from the front, so I wouldn’t be too close or too far from him. I stayed there the whole time, and he stayed up front until the service was over. When it ended, we walked down for a few minutes. I asked him how his dating life was going, and he told me about the new girl he’s seeing. She’s taller than me, skinnier than me, and she’s an atheist, which is apparently better than being a Christian, and he’s really into her.
He’s trying to make me jealous because he’s manipulative like that, but I was wise to his game. I cheerfully told him that I was glad that he was happy and seeing other people, while secretly, I was dying inside. We walked around the outside of the church, and then I had a moment of retardation. I admitted that I missed him a lot and I asked if I could hold his hand. So we walked around and held hands. I didn’t tell him that I had another date scheduled for the day, but I did tell him I was dating again, so I had my moment of manipulation of comparing him to this other guy (most of my comparisons were lies, but I’ll never tell).
Then Old Greg asked me what would I do if he kissed me. And I very excitedly and stupidly answered that I would kiss him back. So we kissed. He kissed me on the lips, then I kissed him on the lips- not passionately, but there were still sparks there for me. I like kissing him, even though he’s a huge douche who has hurt me so many times. Something is terribly wrong with me. I am terribly stupid. And I know it, and yet, I’m torturing and tormenting myself. So after those two kisses, he had to play for the second church service, and I had to go on my date which I scheduled conveniently a half hour before the second service would begin so I wouldn’t spend the day with Old Greg. And so we pecked a kiss on the lips goodbye, and I told him that I still want my things back.
Dates to go: 97
Outcome: Truth Sherwood is through with relationships, but she will continue the dating challenge, knowing that there is no such thing as Prince Charming or Mr. Right.
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