Lose My Number

I met him a couple years ago when I was depressed. One of the lowest points of my life. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I didn’t even want to leave my apartment. But he was persistent, he kept calling. He convinced me to watch a band. With nothing else to do that night, I agreed. Like I said, I was really depressed. I wasn’t attracted to him. I turned my cheek every time he tried to kiss me. He irritated the hell out of me. But I dated him for a month or so…because at least it got me out of the house. At least I was being social.

He adored me. I hated him.
He told me he loved me. I laughed aloud in his face.

I dumped him and hoped he’d be smart enough to leave me alone. He wasn’t. He was persistent, he still tried to woo me even though I’d broken his heart. He’d call, I’d roll my eyes. After ignoring several calls, I felt bad. Once a quarter I’d pick up the phone, “Hey…things are great. I’m in love with someone. Gotta go, he’s about to pick me up and I’m not done getting ready. Ciao.”

I wanted him to simply leave me alone and go away. He realizes there’s no future, but insists on being friends. I continue to see his calls come through and get annoyed. Go away, you gnat. I guess at what point do you tell someone bluntly, “Look, you’re a nice person. I don’t want to hurt your feelings. I hate saying this. When will you ever understand that I don’t like you? I don’t want your friendship. I don’t enjoy hanging out with you.”

Does anyone ever say that these days? This annoyance simply festers inside me whenever I see his calls. Then my anger gets going when I hear him whine, “We’re supposed to be friends. How come we don’t ever hang out? Let’s make plans to hang out.”

I have my friends. A lot of them. I barely have enough quality time with them plus my family plus work plus my own downtime. Ugh, sorry, a little bit annoyed tonight. I will sleep on it.