broken, day 11

So my friends have suggested I write letters to Quinn. Some say send them, others say just write them in a notebook. Hold on to it and see what happens; down the road maybe you’ll feel like still sending them, maybe you won’t. Just write the letters and get it off your chest. I might do that. I have to find a notebook to write them in but I’m sure it won’t be too hard considering I am a collector of journals and notebooks for some reason. So I am going to track an empty one down and start writing, see what comes of it.

Working on setting up an appointment with the insurance adjuster to have them look at my car. PITA that is.

I was talking to one of my supes at work and told her how I enjoy flirting with our Quinn at the store because he’s out of my league. She looked me like I was out of my mind and said that he was totally not out of my league. But the reality is he feels out of my league so he feels safer to flirt with, like he’s not going to take it as seriously. He just smiles and shakes his head, he doesn’t quite flirt back. He takes it in stride like your older brother’s best friend does when the kid sister gets a crush on him.

I was asked out earlier this week too. By a guy who has a fiance. Which was really weird. Of course I said no. Not only do I not want to go on a date but I really don’t want to go on a pity date. Screw that crap. So yeah.

That’s my life. I’m in agonizing heartbreak, combined with total frustration, combined with relief at being able to flirt and not worry about a guy getting jealous and possessive, combined with an aching and terrible loneliness, burning anger still simmering below the surface. It’s tough being me just now.