Open Letter To Jack

(this is an open letter to the 'golf guy' -- Jack. Many of you have asked questions about him and what is happening and I haven't had any sort of answer. Since I am tired of answering questions and even more tired of his nonsense, this letter will have to suffice. This letter may contain an excessive amount of unpleasantness, you have been warned!)

Dear Jack,

Falling for someone is a really fucked up thing. I had thought after things ended with the Hex that I was pretty much destined for the dating thing for life, perhaps with a random hookup thrown in for good measure. Then you came along.

You were funny, interesting and just as sarcastic as I am. I fell for you and hard. Hell, I drove to Cleveland to see you. Who the fuck drives to Cleveland?

After about a month of good and happy times, you retreated into work. I'd hear from you now and again, each time assuring me that you were still interested, that you were still buried in work. Finally I gave up, told you it was over. I was done.

After a few weeks I called you. Believe it or not, you had been on my mind that whole time. Yes, I had been out on dates with others. Dating is what I do and what I know. Dating is an easy way to avoid a relationship.

So I called and you expressed surprise that I called. You asked to see me again. I said yes. We set a time. You didn't show.

And nothing.

And you called again, when I was home cleaning the house. You asked to come over, I said sure. I warned you I was in the middle of stuff, you said you didn't care. We talked for awhile, you asked for another chance, assuring me that things would be different this time. I said yes.

That was dumb on my part. Nothing had changed, the same old same old nonsense. Too much work, too little free time. Plenty of time to text me, no time to talk. No time to see me.

I continue to date.

Last Wednesday I get a text from you, wanting a date on Friday. I respond with yes, that sounds nice. You text back saying you'll call me on Thursday to confirm.

And Nothing.

Yet.

I've sent you a couple of texts, the jist of them being WTF? As of now I've heard nothing from you. I expect to hear nothing from you.

I don't know if you are mentally ill, married, living with someone or just plain fucked up, at this point I don't care. After I am done writing this post, you officially do not exist to me. I am deleting your phone number. I am deleting all thoughts of you. You are nothing but a bad memory.

The funny part of all this is that I thought you had potential. Silly me. I won't make that mistake with you again.

--- Athena