10:59 pm.  11:01 pm.   11:03 pm.

Hmmm.. My phone is on. 

*ping* 

 I grab my phone like its my last lifeline and check my incoming text.

It’s just my mom. 

11:13.   11:17.  11:23.

Urgh.  He said he would call me at 10:45…… I check his Facebook.   He updated his status at 10:39.   His last tweet was at 10:47.   So then what the fuck?!

Should I call him? No, I shouldn’t call him.   I’m not gonna call him.  I repeat this over and over but my fingers have a mind of their own..   Its ringing.

No answer.

Am I being ignored?   This is the third time he’s done this to me..  I really thought things would be hella different soon as I was single and “doin’ my own thing,”  but I’m starting to get this sickening feeling that maybe… maybe.. he’s just not that into me.  FML.  Since I can’t call him back without looking like a bonafide psycho, I call the Ex.  He’s still always down to hang….  It’s ringing. 

No answer.

The fuck?  Maybe he’s still at work.   It’s cool, I didn’t really wanna hang with him anyway.   As I sit here flipping through the TV channels, I’m realizing that I’ve just become that girl who stays home waiting for a man to call her and it unsettles my stomach.  Fuck that shit, I’m gonna go out and rub my ass in some strange man’s nether regions so he can buy me a drink.  Yep, that’s my plan and I’m sticking to it!  I’m calling my girls, since they should still be getting ready for the night.  I could get ready in 12 minutes if they would just tell me where to go…   It’s ringing. 

No. Fucking. Answer. 

Ok seriously?!   I don’t have The Ex, I don’t have The Smirker, and tonight, I don’t even have my friends?!?!?!?! 

All I have is my fucking Blackberry….  

At least it vibrates.