Single Girl Dating Diaries- I Think I’m Finally Over Him

By Zoe C on December 3rd, 2009

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You may have heard the drama about Tiger Woods and his lady friends who happen to work as cocktail waitresses when they’re not looking for their next sugar daddy, but we’re not all bad, skanky and ready to tell our stories to US Weekly. I cocktail on the weekends to try to save enough money to go back to NYU, but things have been really slow lately. I need tips, people!

Anyway, in my first post, I talked about my ex and how he broke my heart when he hooked up with a wannabe model. This hot, smart, attractive, driven guy that I put on a pedestal, used to drive me crazy with his constant mind games, nonchalant attitude, and arrogance that makes girls like me go buck wild. He was like a drug that I needed constant hits of especially when I craved his love and affection. And when we broke up, it was as though I was thrown into rehab. You know…they try to make me go to rehab and I say no…no…no.

I couldn’t get my fix and it killed me. Like all drugs, you know its bad for you, but you keep going back for more.

But time does have healing effects and whether I was rebounding with boring Steve-O from the office or spending time out with my gal pals, I started to heal. The nights when I’d remember the “good times,” slowly became distant memories as I began replacing them with new images of fun, craziness, and spontaneous acts. Hey, we might be in a recession, but I do live in New York City where you can find a crapload of things to do for very cheap. Avenue B, anyone?

And then it happened. He called me and asked if I wanted to get a drink. WTF!!!

I’d love to write that I texted him back, “Get a life, you loser and don’t contact me again,” but of course I didn’t. (Though I did wait a few minutes to write him back)

We met at La Bottega in the Meatpacking District last night. I was 15 minutes late because for some reason I felt like that would show how nonchalant I’ve become. (Makes no sense, I know) Am I Audrina Patridge to his Justin Bobby? SIGH

I dolled myself up more than usual with my thigh high boots, minidress and my hair in tousled waves. The entire time that I was doing my hair, I kept reassuring myself that I actually didn’t care what he thought of me. Even though I obviously did.

And then, there he was. Hot as ever. Chiseled jaw. Slight stubble on his chin. That goofy grin in his face. I think my heart dropped a bit as I slid into the banquette.

HIM: Long time, Zoe. You look good.

ME: Thanks. You have dirt on your chin. Oh wait, that’s stubble.

HIM: Love the sarcasm. Oh. Happy Birthday.

Pause.

ME: Why did you call me?

HIM: I know I messed up. I just… I’m still in love with you.

I just froze, but started feeling my face getting hot. Why does he have this effect over me? After all the crap he’s pulled, the excuses, lies, and heartache that he’s caused? How come he gets to make me melt when he’s done me so wrong?