You could’ve told me

01/02/2008

I have a cute little feng-shui frog that I feed money to. I’ve had him/her for a while now. I never really used to feed him/her much money; it’d always just be a 20c or a 50c coin.

Some months back, Toby started feeding it R2 coins. At some stage we even had a R5 coin in it. We believed it brings luck.

Who knows, perhaps it does? I thought my luck started to turn in August. But then it took a dip and then, some months later, it peaked. It peaked again in September, when I started this job, and then it peaked yet again in November, when I realised I like Victor.

I always kept a steady supply of coins ready for the little froggie. I couldn’t have him/her go hungry and I needed to feel that my good luck is assured.

So of course I am beginning to wonder if I did the right thing last night. I took the money out of his mouth. I needed taxi fare. Eeeek.

Now, Victor has been busy the whole week. I didn’t really hear much from him. He’s been rather … distant. So I’m starting to freak out. I am starting to suspect that he found my blog (this one) and that he has been reading it on the sly.

I tried to phone him today. Twice. Three times. The fourth time I put my number on “private number” and he picked up. That says something. I’m very, very, very, very sad. Being too busy to pick up my call, but not too busy to pick up a “private number” call? Ag nee, man.

Him reading the blog wouldn’t upset me; him not telling me he found it would. So, Xxxxxxx, if you’re reading this, I’d just like to ask you the following: “Why didn’t you tell me?” Why did you act as though you’ve never laid eyes on my darling little blog?

I deleted your telephone number. I’m considering taking you off my facebook. I deleted the things I posted on your wall. I can contact you only through email. And I won’t do so. Or perhaps I will. See, I know what I get like when I’m upset. Ask Toby. That’ll be Xxxxx, if you haven’t figured it out by now. Not even Xxxxx would do something like this.

I hope you’re happy now.  I’m not. Or. I guess I am. Cause now I know what you’re really like. I guess you just wanted me for sex, hey? I should not have slept with you. I knew it was a mistake. I knew that you’re too clever to want a girlfriend who doesn’t even have a degree or a diploma. I knew that you’d be too embarrassed to introduce me to your *real* friends. Fuck. I’m stupid. *Bangs head against wall*

I blame that picture that Gareth took in 2006. It’s just so damn sexy. You weren’t the only guy who fell in love with those pictures. In one day, I would get 25 Datingbuzz messages. You weren’t special; I was just bored. *Stops banging head against wall*

Recovers, and catches Warren’s eye. Shit, he’s mighty fine. I think I’ll quit my job and shag him. He can be my rebound guy. Him, and not you, Xxxxxxx.

And then, just to get my revenge on you (I’m freakishly evil, if you have not noticed it yet) I will include your full name and profession and everything in this blog. And I’ll email your mom. Or your little brother. Or should I email your sister instead? Who shall it be??? I wonder. Your dad? Perhaps I won’t even email, perhaps I’ll send them a handwritten note to their postal address. I’m not quite sure what I’ll say. But I’ll figure it out.

Trust me.

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2 Responses to “You could’ve told me”

  1. Lee Says:

    Shit, you sound just like every girl I have pissed off….

    You scare the crap outa me… If he has read this I don’t think he is gona be too happy… What if your wrong? Are you basing all this on the phone call?

  2. callith Says:

    I’m sorry, Lee. I was very, very, very angry.

    I really hope he didn’t find this blog, and I don’t know how to broach the subject…

    Any suggestions?

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