The 3rd Time I Knew I Should End It – But Didn’t

We’ll shit. Here we are.

Hi.

BACKGROUND
It probably goes without saying that things didn’t quite end with Mr. Puerto Rico like I said. When I wrote the last blog, I assumed it was over. But, like a fucking clown, he said the right things and I hid my last blog entry, deleted my dating apps, and let an emotionally unavailable dude waste space in my emotionally available life. I know I sound bitter, but I’m actually much less bitter than I seem. I’m just pissed at myself for all of those times I was trying to connect emotionally, and he would respond with some random bullshit, and I let it go.

Me: Hey! If I haven’t told you lately. I like you, mmmkay. <3
PR: Hi! I’m a little stressed with everything I’m going through, but it’s ok. Not trying to push or force things, tomorrow is another day!
Me: (uhhh… ok!? We’ve been dating 4.5 months… this is obviously going well. )

“I tell you I’m thirsty and you offer me a sandwich. Thank you and fuck you” – This Boy’s Life

THE FINALE
I’m sitting at work and PR texts to say that he’s sitting at home studying and paying bills for most of the morning. We chat back and forth a bit and I think it would be a nice surprise to Postmates he and his son some donuts for breakfast, since he had pretty much mentioned donuts every night for the past week. I placed the order with Postmates with instructions to just leave the donuts on his doorstep:

He basically went on to say that opening the door and seeing them was an unwanted distraction. Like, really!? You obviously don’t get me at all. What the fuck am I still doing here? I spent the evening texting with Michelle contemplating ending it… over fucking donuts.

Yeah. Donuts.

…but he beat me to the punch (again) and sent “Dear Jane” text number 2.

Neato.