It was actually my fault

Holy shit! Holy shit!

I was home multitasking – attempting to read my job homework, while also taking breaks to internally whine about my life – when my entire monologue of misery was shoved down my throat with a side of humble pie.

Let me explain. Here I was, sitting alone in my empty flat thinking:

My friends used to text me all the time. Even when we weren’t in the same part of the country, we’d take the time to text each other. But woe is me; I guess they’ve all forgotten me, and they don’t love me anymore. And speaking of love, I’ll be alone on Valentines Day this year, and while I publicly claim that it’s a capitalistic holiday invented to make people feel guilty for being alone, which I don’t need a global holiday to validate, because I certainly feel all alone without the absence of a greeting card embossed with hearts and flowers reminding me how alone I am. The only people who love me are my bloggy followers, but oh look, no one’s reading my post just now. Even they think I’m a whiney cow, and have left me to type-away to myself like a commenter on a conspiracy theory forum. I’ve always been fairly vulnerable, but at least I used to publically front with a false attitude of righteousness, but now I don’t even have the energy to pretend that I don’t care.

You know the type of spiralling thoughts — the ones that start off pretty innocently, but just get lost in a circle of self-pity. I reached for my phone to text D to fuss at her for not texting me incessantly since we made up last week, and I realised that my phone was turned off. In fact, I turned it off on Monday night, because I was sick of HarryPotter texting me, and I forgot to turn it back on.

Yeah, I know, crazy. How can someone live without a phone? But since I don’t know anyone in town, and I’m working all day, I simply didn’t notice. (Let me remind you, I don’t have a smart phone, so I only use my mobile for texts and calls. Although I do now have a work Blackberry which is sitting on my desk in the office.)

When I turned the phone back on I found out that HarryPotter had indeed stopped trying to contact me, that D had texted me several times, B a couple of times, and Mum had tried to ring. But even more importantly than that, there were five missed calls from a weird foreign number. I checked my voice mail and it was Pete.

He said that he got my sarky email to him (the last one I sent to him, when I thought he’d just wandered off into the Gap Year sunset with some hot hippie), and he’s sent me several emails since (why he didn’t just Facebook me is a mystery), but he was worried since I hadn’t responded to the emails. Then he said he’s in Turkey, and he asked me to ring him at the Hostel where he’s staying.

I went into my email, and there were no messages from him. I couldn’t help but think, ‘I’m not falling for more shit. He can claim he’s sent me email, but he’s actually just full of shi…’

That’s when it occurred to me. I never check my spam box. So, I opened my junk mail folder and sitting in between emails to ‘Make her cum’ and ‘Get a giant penis now’ were about a dozen emails from Pete. I’d probably gotten more, but after a few weeks the junk email automatically deletes.

To summarise the emails, Pete left Thailand and went to India, and travelled about a bit, but never managed to find a decent place to Skype. But he said that if I’d email him back with a time, he’d try to ring from a payphone. He continued to email, wondering what happened to me. He contacted Sarah, who told him that I’d moved to Dundee and that perhaps I was just ‘too busy’ to respond. So he rang me.

I rang the number, asked if there was a lodger named Pete, and within moments the man put Pete on the phone.

The phone call was quite short, because he was using the phone at the reception desk and didn’t want to tie up the line. But the summary of that phone call:

Pete isn’t a horrible selfish arse. It simply was a misunderstanding (or a techno-email-junk-mail-fault). I owe him an appology. I was the arse. I do actually really miss him, and I can’t wait to see him. He’ll be in Britain on Tuesday.

He was supposed to muck about Europe, but he said that since leaving me his travelling seems a bit pointless. Rather than wander about aimlessly, he’d rather just come see me.

Yippieeeeeeee. I really feel bad that I doubted him.

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One response to “It was actually my fault

  1. Technology can be such a cockblocker sometimes… I’m so thrilled you heard from him, and that you’ll be seeing him soon! Yay!

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