Monday, December 17, 2007

i kinda want my stuff back

Doctor and I broke up in January, but we dragged the breakup much longer than that, and really only quit sleeping over with each other when I drunkenly (irresponsibly) hooked up with Broadway in March. One of the tricks I did to make sure I would keep seeing Doctor during all this pseudo-breakup period--yes, I know, such typical girl madness--was to hold on to some of his stuff. I reasoned that I could always use needing to return his stuff as an excuse to ask to see him (over).

I had forgotten about most of his stuff until I did some major reshuffling to pack away my summer stuff and bring out all of my winter clothes. I discovered quite a few things of his: gloves, scarf, sweat pants, LEATHER JACKET, and some other random things. They're not things that you would just leave at an ex's and chalk it up as the casualties of an ex-relationship. Digging up his stuff also also reminded me that some favorite tshirts of mine are still at his place.

So I've been mulling since mid-November about reaching out to him, calling him, emailing him, something-ing him to offer a 9-months-later stuff swap. It's only logical, right? Except, I can't seem to do it. I just don't want to talk to him, and I want to see him even less.

The mere thought of him makes me gag. Ever since June, I have loathed him. Especially now that things are going quite well (well, stably) with Broadway, the tiniest memory of Doctor completely disgusts me.

But I love those tshirts of mine, and his thick leather jacket is taking up some seriously valuable real estate in my closet. The swap meeting doesn't have to take long ... a two-hand exchange, right? Two seconds, right? I just need to dial his number, right?

Except, I just can't do it.

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