Don't worry, I feel guilty about this too

I wish I never called him. I always forget that when I call him, I actually feel worse afterwards instead of better. I call him and my heart beats faster when the phone is ringing. I get a high. Then after 6 rings his voicemail picks up and I just emotionally crash. Now he knows I called and he doesn't want to talk to me. Now I know this too.

I used to date this Catholic named Conor and the same thing happened. We would have sex and the sex was okay, just okay but enough to feel good, and every time afterwards he'd roll over and say, "We shouldn't have done this, it's a sin." Crash. Every time. I should have been smart enough not to sleep with him once I knew this. He broke up with me the same way: he orgasms and rolls over, "We shouldn't have done this, it's a sin and we're just friends, right?"

Now that I had broken the lines of silence, I felt this urge that I shouldn't give up until I reached him. This morning I was thinking about showing up at his work. He's an outside sales rep and he travels to different cities each day and goes to their businesses. He always works the same city on Fridays. I would show up and wait in the parking lot at whatever business he was at, which would be found by me driving around the city and checking the lots for his car. The type if business he specializes in are always lumped on the same street so stalking value can be held at a minimum. The idea made me feel good. At one point this morning I actually smiled. It felt weird and I didn't know what was different until I realized it had been a really long time since I smiled. I felt strange smiling.

I figured any idea that could make me feel better was worth following through. I had purpose this morning. I got up, showered, got dressed, put on make-up and, heaven-forbid, perfume. I didn't cry once. I got in the car, thought of an excuse to be in the area, and drove an hour to the city.

Here's how it would work: I would be at his car when he came out of the building and he would look at me and I would smile and say, "Let's get some lunch." I would tell him how unfair he's been and he would tell me what's really bothering him. I would talk him through it and he would feel better. We wouldn't immediately get back together, but it would get the ball rolling.

I drove up and down that fucking street for an hour and a half and pulled into every fucking business and didn't see his fucking car once. I was worried that because he didn't go to that city last Friday, maybe he went on Monday and didn't need to go again this week. I hadn't spoken to him so I had no idea of his schedule. I didn't want to say, "Hey I'm here, let's meet for lunch," because if he chose not to respond, he might be on to me and change his schedule. If that happened then I couldn't perform this plan again, because this one was an obvious failure.

I settled for, "Hey I'm not far from you, let's do lunch." I sent it as a text message. This way, he wouldn't know that I was actually there. Finally, he finally responded that he was too busy. But I would bet any money that he wasn't even there yet when I was there. There was no way. Lazy Ass was probably not even working yet. This kinda relieves me should I try it again.

So I sobbed and drove home. And got stuck in Friday afternoon traffic. Serves me right. It takes me under an hour to get there, but an hour and forty to get home. I freaking deserved it. Fucking trip cost me $12 in gas. I'm sobbing and devastated. I get home and my mom knows I've been out because she can smell perfume. I tell her the story (in much less detail in between mumbles and sobs) and she begins to make fun of me.

Like the phone calls, like the sex with the Catholic, I feel worse now that I tried it and failed. I am glad, however, he even responded to my text. But I have cried it out of me and am resigned to the whole idea of contacting him.