Shame and Humiliation!

Friday! It couldn't have come soon enough. This week has been hell and I just want it to be over. I went on a date Monday with someone I thought was a great guy. Granted before Monday, we had only talked via email, but he still seemed great and I grew to trust him after talking for about a month. So I went to have a drink with him at the local bar. Usual chit-chat…blah, blah, blah. After one beer, I was ready to go home, as it was a work night. He walked out with me to the parking lot, and asked if he should follow me home, or if I should follow him. Now…I’m living by my new motto “whore no more”, so I’ve already decided to not have sex with this guy that night, and I tell him so. Next thing I know, I’m on the ground after he punched me in the face. He got a few good kicks in as well before I finally got away. It's not like I had been leading him on. This was a first date, and a work night.

Am I humiliated? Yes. Devastated? I don’t know. I have a black eye, which is just so attractive. I think the worst part of the fiasco is that I had nobody I could call to cry on. My best friend, Jeff has had nothing to do with me since he met his boyfriend (and after the way he’s treated me over the last 6 weeks, I don’t think I want to tell him everything anyway). I’ve always been one to make my friends my extended family, which is why his ending most contact with me has hurt so much. I haven’t been abandoned like this since my dad kicked me out when I was 17. I keep switching between “screw him” and “I miss him”. I do wish him well…he’s waited three years to find someone, and the person he found is such an admirable person that I have to be glad for him.

I’m really just so ashamed. How could I not have known that the Monday guy was a freak? I’ve been known to be a freak magnet, so if they want me…it’s a good sign to run away. I just wish I had someone to talk to about the whole incident. Instead I have the journal that will probably never be read.

I’ve kept to myself most of this week, in hopes that nobody would see me. Made it all the way to Thursday, before I had to go to the kickball game and face my team. 11 lesbians all wanting to kill a man…sounds like a typical Saturday night. I’m just in such a funk, and I’d like to say it is all because of Monday…but I’d be lying. It’s just a number of things that have all built up. I think I may go for a run tonight to clear my head. There is something about hitting the sixth mile and how everything suddenly feels better…I can’ t describe it, but it always clears my head.