it finally happened. the day i knew knew knew would come back and shit all over my face. was out last night, and ran into A, an older guy i ever-so-briefly dated back in february. i talked honestly about what happened between us on my cosmo blog, which was subsequently picked up by gawker, (and cajun boy, who has forever ruined my name in google search). this was not good, because i had essentially said that he was bad at sex. or at least, we were bad at it together. (altho, i rock at it, i assure you). at the time of gawker publication, we weren’t seeing each other anymore. we hadn’t talked for a bit…but i was fairly sure he had seen it. he’s in media, of course he reads gawker. i felt awful. truly. but…i did what i did. weirdly, i don’t think i would feel so bad about it if he wasn’t 34. it makes me seem like a young retard with no moral boundaries. twentysomethings fuck each other over all the time.
so he was at this party last night. i saw him the second i walked into the room, ducked my head and rushed to my friend. “we need to leave. NOW.” i was freaking out. i shamefully hid behind my friend as we made our way past him and to the upstairs part of the bar where i welcomed a vodka soda and finished it in a few gulps.
thirty minutes later, i had to pee. and that meant going back downstairs to use the ladies. i did, and as if i was watching a horror movie that i couldn’t take my eyes away from, i gave an extended glance into the party room. and there he was. he stared blankly at me. he saw me. he tightened his lips a bit and raised his eyebrows - as if he had just recognized an old friend, but a split second later remembered why he probably hates me, and the two emotions clashed on his face. he didn’t make a move to come forward. i went into the bathroom.
when i came out, he wasn’t there.
