Waste-a-weekend

I holed up for the entire weekend. My father wanted me to come to his house and I mumbled that I'd think about it with no intentions of actually going. He's never been fatherly and I wasn't feeling sociable.

My mother tried to get me to go shopping on Saturday, but succeeded only in getting me out of the house. I didn't want to buy anything because I have no money. Didn't want anything for an apartment I don't have, clothes for a job I don't have, nor shoes for dates I will never go on. My mother saw me mentally planning my demise and decided we can go back home where I promptly holed back up again.

I've been pretty angry all day. Being angry is pretty easy at this point. Being angry is actually easier than dealing with anything else. My mother came in my room and tried to talk to me, but I ignored her after she said that I must have given Mark a reason to go back to his ex, a theory I'm beginning to believe less and less. She said I have all this anger and that we don't know where it's stemming from, but I need to get it out. She told me to write a letter and tear it up if I don't want to send it, just to get some of these feelings out.

Even when Mark and I fought over the weekend, we'd always talk Sunday night. It was the night we'd make-up or simply ignore the previous week. It's been 3 weeks since I've seen him last: he's been making up flimsy excuses about why he couldn't see me each weekend and even though I moved closer, we still live too far apart to see each other during the week.

I will not call him tonight. I bet if I did he'd actually pick up the phone, but I will not call him tonight. If we've broken up (it's silly to say that I don't even know for sure,) then I better get used to not speaking to him on Sunday nights.