This past week, the good, actually, the bad.

It was wednesday morning, two days after my one year anniversary with my now ex boyfriend, and I still hadn't heard from him. He had done this before, ignoring me because he's mad, or because he has done something wrong...I was expecting this because just on sunday we had gotten into a stupid fight because we lived so far away and we both got irritated because we hadn't been able to see each other (basically because we both have jobs, and its hard to work around them). But, now maybe i'm over reacting, but after not even getting a call, a text, or even a freaking email on a one year anniversary -- that for one sent me over the edge. I was furious. I kept calling, and he wouldn't answer. After three calls a day, for almost four days, I was finished. I was just tired of being in a constant batlle to get my own boyfriends attention. So -- Wednesday morning before school, I called him, he didn't answer (of course) and I left him a voice mail. "Hey, it's me. I don't care what you're doing anymore...but I want your stuff out of my house by the end of the month. K. Thanks. Bye." That was how I just ended a one year relationship with someone I thought I could have married -- who I sincerely loved with my whole heart. (Note: I had, and still have, a whole dresser full of his clothes, half a closet worth of his shoes, and lots and lots of his rings -- one being a promise ring, which I'm surprised I haven't even thrown away yet.) That call was the last one that I had made to him for two days -- usually he would have called to say something, just something. He didn't. This crazy thought goes running through my mind -- he's hurt. he's dead. he's lying in the hospital in a coma, and no one knows his name. he's a john doe. I flipped out. I feared for the guy who I have loved for one year, I feared for the same guy who hurt me more than one year's worth. I couldn't believe I still cared. So, I called, one last time, and I of course had to block my number (just incase my summations were wrong and he was, in fact, still alive.) He answered. "Yo." "Hey, I need to talk to you." Click. He hung up on me. After hurting me for one year, every day, after ending things the way they did, he hung up. Oh, I was furious. I called back -- and the idiot actually answered. The first word out of his mouth was Fuck. "What is your problem?" "I can't believe you would end our relationship the way you did." "I can't believe you didn't call me on our anniversary." "Why would I? My phone was dead." (he has internet, and a home phone) "whatever, when are you coming to get your stuff?" This was the point when he got quiet, and actually sounded quite hurt. "I don't have the money to drive and get it, I will have to save up for a while -- Can you just wait?" "Why should I?" "Because I know you still care about me -- you should still care about me." Damn. He knew. Was I obvious? Was it the fact that the thought of him being dead worried me? Whatever the situation -- I still care about someone who doesn't care about me.