The Lighthouse Scenario

I was both optimistic and correct about seeing Bud again.  I loved spending a few hours with 4 friends I hadn't seen in too long, especially since we used to see each other all the time.  There hadn't been a more beautiful day in weeks, and we got to spend much of it at a rooftop restaurant.  But I did feel awkward.  I had trouble making eye contact with Bud, especially at first.  I had to force a smile some of the time.  Now that all's said and done, I don't think Bud was fooled, but hey, I did the best I could to act as if we were always just friends. Then I drove home, cried not nearly as long as I did last month, and drowned myself in fiction. Said fiction was a Korean drama called Rooftop Prince that's available online with no commercials.  If you have something you really should be doing, don't start watching Korean dramas, b/c they're addicting (5+ years for me). I swore off them for 5 months to write my thesis, but this break up brought them back into my life. Escapism.

Escaping to a lighthouse would be ideal. Novels have romanticized them so much for me.  I'd be thrilled to get to go inside one.

Truths realized yesterday: 

I must've cared about Bud more than I thought, if all I wanted by the end was to give him what he wanted. 

If I ever fool myself into thinking I'm capable of casual dating again, shame on me.  

I am a weaker person than I would like to be. 

If I stay generally sad much longer, I think I could become an actress b/c I am now capable of crying on command those tears that well and then gently fall straight from my eyelid to the desk, or if my head's tilted, they skim down my cheek and pool at my chin. In other words, pretty tears.  If I had the slightest interest in acting, I'd start going for auditions.

I let myself wallow today, but I'll get back to job-applying tomorrow.