What is it about a potential date? The anticipation? The trepidation?

Or could it be the disappointment?

I thought after being stood up nearly six years ago that it would never happen again. As I realize I will be many more times in my life, I was wrong.

Further more, what is the point of saying you’ll be somewhere then not showing up? If you don’t want to see someone again, why bother arranging a meeting? Was it because he was working at the time? Maybe he discovered that we met once before.

It was October of last year and my relationship with J was on its deathbed. A local coffee house in the city was having its anniversary celebration and I made the mistake of joining an acquaintance there. Chloe was also a survivor of abuse and I naively assumed this made her trustworthy. We watched a cute acoustic musician play his set inside to a small crowd; his nineties covers had me feeling nostalgic and hopeful.

After a few songs he asked for requests and I shouted out a well-known Incubus song from the late nineties. He didn’t know the lyrics and cheekily asked me to sing it with him. With the encouragement of my false friend, I took the stage with the intriguing singer and tried to harmonize. Badly.

Understand now why I hope he doesn’t remember me now?

Anyway, tonight he played at his ale house/work place. The lyrics of his original songs had me convinced that we had survived the same relationship. Along with the warm reception of the staff, this left me feeling hopeful.

Upon arrival at the BFF bar felt nature’s call. The bathrooms smelled worse than I’d prepared myself for and I ended up leaving a trail if my dinner down the front of my dress. After cleaning the evidence off the floor, I was left with little choice but to lie to the women who I encountered outside of the stalls. Some drunk split his IPA on my dress, I told them, as I dried the sink-washed surface of my dress.

The bands were thrilling and original, but the thump of the bass did little to dull the sting of rejection,

Luckily for me, Thursday night my friends were planning to meet me at the ale house before a movie sponsored by our fan group. He’s working that night and will have no choice but to spill his reason for ditching me.

I apologize for the delay for those that actually follow my writings. You are the real heroes in this story. Way to follow the underdog that never actually defeats the usual winners.


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