It’s been a few days since I heard from Michael, or possibly “M” as you remember him.
According to my friend-boys, this is to be expected. Michael informed me that he deals with breakups by going into The Fortress of Solitude [See: Superman].
Essentially, he is sitting on his couch with his boys [Weezy F. Baby and Hermes, his dogs], drinking beer and eating red velvet cake batter frozen yogurt by the pound. He may or may not be throwing darts at old pictures.
While it really sucks to go from talking to someone all day everyday to now, nothing, I can see it another way. Assuming that he’s not mad at me, of course.
A. I’m not one of the guys. I am a woman, a woman who likes him, so I appreciate being left out of this process. B. I don’t know exactly why the relationship ended and maybe that’s a good thing, if he plans on ever being anything more than my friend.
For now, I figure I’ll give him some time to do whatever it is he needs to do. Until then, I’m up to my usual antics: boozin’, laughing with Marcy, and listening to the fun surprises Pandora throws my way, such as: