I’m back on the market, full time.
I’ll skip the exact gut-wrenching movie worthy moment of when I decided this, but let’s just say, he couldn’t have been any clearer. The worst part is, he’s no clue really, that we’re totally done; it’s not, obviously, sunk in yet. I’m guessing, he thinks I’ll just get over it, this….incident…on the phone; when really, what he said just….left me completely without the ability to draw breath.
So, I decided that perhaps, the best way to get over someone, was to get under someone else.
KIDDING!
But….I did allow Mag’s to rather push me into (or perhaps, just nudge me along a bit, he is rather delish) emailing back the Knight in Shining Armor (or scrubs in this case) who rescued me from Vinnie T’s and total foot hell. (In a nutshell? I whacked my foot on a wrought iron table; enough to fracture my ankle and a metatarcil, and he carried me out) He had a great sense of humor, ragging on my less than stellar shave job (who doesn’t miss a couple stray ones near that funky bone that sticks out of your ankle?), my cutie sandals that clearly had a great deal to do with why the chair I was moving back from the table, didn’t actually slide my oversized ass anywhere. It just allowed my foot to slam into the table.
He was in scrubs. Mag’s and I debated about whether or not to bother him (I was in the Very Firm NO camp; she, clearly, was not) and Mag’s being Mag’s, she won. So, I very politely entered myself into their convo, and thunked my injured foot in his lap. He did the doctor thing, pronounced it broken and carried me out. Very sweet. Cutie dimples. Wide green eyes. Built like a brick shithouse. Solid as a rock. Not once did I think he was going to drop me.
So I emailed. I called. And now, I’ve a date! He’s sweet, and funny; charming, and all in all, he’s great…..but the timing’s rather off. I am still nursing a very broken heart; and, naturally, his name is M too. Honestly. What kind of freaking Karma is THAT?!
Military, (read: fab uniform) fireman (who doesn’t love a fireman?!) and works full time at the hospital. But seriously, knights in shining armor, don’t really exist; there’s always something wrong with them. So what’s wrong with him?
Is he unavailable too?
Is he going to tell me he doesn’t love me, he never did, because he chooses not to?
Or, do I leave my otherwise pathetic peasant of an ex in the dust, climb up on his steed, and save a horse, ride a cowboy?
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