Blah.

Women are attracted to these physical attributes in men. Height, build and eyes. My weakness is eyes. Sigh.

I feel odd replying to his email. We parted on relatively good terms (if you ignore the weeping and caterwauling, and the depression that followed after). It's not as if I will snub him on the street, or blacken his good name (whatever is left of it). Hee. But yes, I feel odd. Vaguely guilty.

After all, my philosophy in life is amputate anything that hurts. It isn't a successful procedure all the time. Sometimes I am unable to finish it. Sometimes the amputation does not achieve the results I hope to gain.

And in this case, there is the really miniscule whining voice that belongs to the broody mother hen and desperado that goes, "Oh... oh... oh... he was a good catch you know! And he will be a good provider and father."

Blah. I detest myself sometimes. Angling for the weddings and happy ever afters.

I think I am going to be sick.

However, the operation seems fine. After all, I thought at that time, that we were in love. Maybe. It certainly isn't like what I feel now with Captain Sarcasto. Of course, time may have blurred the memories. If the BF became the ex-BF number three, and I found someone else, who's to say I wouldn't feel like I feel now? Maybe it might even be better.

Just to make a point: the kids do not like any of my ex-BFs. So I suppose Cpt. Sarcasto is safe in our current little arrangement. Hahaha. *wicked laughter*

Poor put-upon male having to deal with indecisive female.

And all these dumb interpolations would never have happened if Tanzy never sent that email in the first place. Blah. I hate it when the past gets dredged up. Why couldn't the ex-BF just stay dead. (Roll over and play dead you hear me!?)

It's noisy in my head tonight. It's all the ex-BF's fault. Damnnit.

However, there isn't the slightest twinge of phantom pain where the amputation is. I just feel vaguely annoyed about the tons of what-ifs.

Blah. I'm doing a Scarlett it seems. Sheesh.