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No artist is pleased. There is no satisfaction at anytime.
There is only a queer, divine dissatisfaction,
a blessed unrest keeps us marching and makes us more alive than others.
-- Martha Graham to Agnes De Mille
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2002-12-02 - 3:22 p.m.

Turns out it wasn't the flower guy who *really* ruined my day

How's this for a nice big "Fuck You" from the universe? ShyGirl got back together with her Ex on Thanksgiving.

She got the flowers. She called. She feels bad. She wants very much for us to still be friends. She enjoys the time we spend together.

I told her there wasn't really anything between us, yet. That it was all potential, and not yet any actuality, and she didn't owe me anything. I told her that I'm still her friend, and that I'm going to be there for her no matter what. (Then I admitted that it's a hell of a lot easier to say that than to actually do it.)

God, I wish I'd kissed her when I had the chance. (I've heard that one before.)

You know what really kills me? Just about the time that I was deciding that I wasn't going limit myself, that I was throwing caution to the wind, that I was letting myself actually feel something for her, she was deciding to go back to the fuckhead.

God hates me.

Damnit!

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