it's gonna be a long weekend. . . .

i'm not going to do it.

i'm not going to call her.

i'm not going to even think about her. or keep wondering why.

i'm sick of all this shit. i'm sick of the one worrying what it was that i did wrong.

i gave her a chance. i asked her a couple of times if things were okay.

because obviously they are not.

she denied it both times.

i'm sick of trying to be the one who has to be understanding and cave in to her emotions. i'm sick of trying to placate her and make her understand my point of view. she obviously doesn't care about understanding my point of view as much as she seems to enjoy judging me.

maybe she's right about me. maybe i am not good enough, even as a human being in her eyes.

well, if that's the case, then call me on my shit. i know she can do it; she's done it enough times before. don't do this passive aggressive shit in which i sense you're upset, i ask you what's wrong, and you deny anything being wrong while looking at me with your glassy, vexed eyes.

if you're gonna be that way, then count me out now.

i always caved in, in the past, when you did that.

but i'm not doing that this time.

so no. i'm not going to call her this weekend until she talks to me and tells me what's up.

i'm not going to think about her nor let myself think all these complicated, stressful, emotional thoughts.

i'm not going to be the one reaching out to her in the hope of her throwing me a bone.

no. i'm just going to let it all go. this whole weekend, i will just not do anything.

and i'll see what happens on monday . . . .