So, it's Saturday morning. Still nothing; I wonder what time I'm supposed to sit around and wait til? Seriously. I sense that this one's going to be a disappointment. I think that if I've not heard from him within the next three or four hours, we're done. I'm not fucking doing this, no matter how hard my innards spasm when he messages me.
I can tell it's pressing my buttons; all I can think about is our friend, the heart-trampler. I wonder if I am somehow drawn to the ones that make me a little nauseous. It'll be interesting to talk to my therapist about this on Monday, that's for sure.
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