So…I’ve finally been happy the last couple of days, because of the new lady. I’ve even been listening to hippie music instead of metal. I’m smiling, and I’m laughing again. Wouldn’t you know it, after a great convo with the new lady via texts my x would hit me up. Perfect timing right? Considering I was talking about what follows around July 9th on facebook. It went as such.
Her: So I’ve heard from a couple people youre under the impression I started seeing the guy I’m with now while you and I were still together. This is not the case AT ALL. He didn’t even start working at the store until the end of july and I didn’t even start TALKING to him till the second wk of August [she stopped living with me the first week of August. I had her cat until the third week of September]. I worked with him but didn’t really meet him til we happened to both go out after work the 2nd wk August. Just wanted to clear that up. Hope you are well.
Me: Whatever. Enjoy your life.
Her: Don’t fucking “whatever” me like you don’t care. If you didn’t care you wouldn’t have texted Courtney abt it. She told me abt it tonight and I thought I would clear it up for you.
Me: I don’t care. Not anymore. Found a new muse. Moved on. You don’t exist to me.
Her: That’s uncalled for. I was trying to answer you questions and youre just being unkind.
Me: Fuck you. Seriously. Miss I want to date women. I don’t want you to work with me. How can you move on quickly? [she asked me that when we were breaking up] I want to be alone. Fuck you.
Her: You have got to get past this. It happened a yr ago. I meant what I said. I had drama with 1 girl, slept with another, met a guy who I said no way to but then after awhile decide to give a try.
Her: and I didn’t want to work with you. This guy I met at work so its kinda hard to say that. What am I supposed to do, tell him to change jobs cause we met and work together.
Me: Awhile? A few weeks? Fuck off. I’m done. Really. I’m moving on. I thought you were the one. Thankfully you weren’t.
She didn’t answer after that one.
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