The world is pretty in pink…plus…sometimes it even sparkles


freedom for at least the next three weeks.

FilmGuy is out of town for work. To NYC.

He wants to meet.

I don’t know what meeting would accomplish.

He’s not going to sign the papers until we meet.

I thinks he thinks he can get me to date him again. He thinks he’s changed.

He still makes me cry at what he threw away. Me.

I’m not sure what planet he’s from.

I can’t do anymore really about the business side until he signs the papers.

Three weeks of no emails, no texts, no phone calls.


UPDATE: he wants to meet. he wants to talk. about what? i dunno. but he won’t sign anything unless we meet. apparently he’s sorry. sorry about everything. everything he’s said. everything he’s written, everything he’s done and wants to talk to me about it. He says he knows he behaved like a child and it wasn’t the correct way to handle anything. He says he realizes that now. That he was depressed and that he was sleeping his life away. working it away and occasionally drinking too much red wine intermittingly away.

He’s gone across the country to NYC. Texting me. “What are you up to?” when plane was delayed in TO. Calling me and leaving no voice mail msg when he arrived wherever he is. Texting me at 5:20am. “I texted you yesterday, if you don’t want to talk I understand”. ME – “it’s 5:20 here. I’m trying to sleep. I don’t know what I want right now.” Him – “okay”.

Me – no idea what to do, what i want, hating every minute of trying to move from him but know it’s the best at this moment.

I think he’s bipolar.



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