Big Mistake. Big. Huge.

Yesterday I was stood up for a lunch date. Rest assured reader that you did read that last sentence correctly. I was in fact stood up, left waiting around like an idiot for a guy who obviously had more important matters to take care of. I was nothing but a bug to be crushed to this guy. You see, I liked this guy. I thought he was such a wonderful person and a great match for a girl like me. He was smart, liked to read, liked sports, and actually respected my intelligence along with my silly thoughts. We would talk about books, including those written by Nicholas Sparks. I know, right? A guy who actually reads and one who also openly admits to reading "chick lit". Sounded too good to be true, nevertheless the truth shined on and like a moth drawn to an open flame, I was drawn to him. Not to mention our compatibility, we both cried at the same parts of movies, talked openly about God and faith, I liked to bake and he liked to eat (ok now that last one is a stretch), but I felt like I had actually found a decent guy.

Lies.

It turns out that I do not like to have my heart played around with, its this strange notion that I do not like to walk around suffering from emotional turmoil. That is a phenomenon that I truly believe that we can all relate to. A heart that is yearning for affection and yet receives a cold shoulder. It feels like a punch in the stomach, a vile sneer, and even a bad case of nausea all rolled into one big fat hairy ball of pain, discomfort, and eventual depression. All in all, a horrible feeling. So, I had made plans with this dream guy yesterday to dine together and catch up, like friends do. We texted our plans, plans of which I thought were rather simple to carry through. I spent the day hanging around the dorm, waiting for him to call. Heck, it wouldn't have mattered if he texted me, e-mailed me, or sent a messenger pigeon to let me know that he was finally available and ready for our lunch. Sadly, neither a text or a pigeon came to my aide yesterday. Neither did he.

Instead, like stupid foolish pre-teen girl I waited for this guy. You see, this whole waiting around thing is not really my style. I am in charge of practically everything. I am the president of a student organization recognized and funded by my university, am a peer mentor and tutor for the university's men's basketball team, a future resident assistant, the author of my own blog, and a freelance blogger for another blog site. I call the shots. But, most of all, I wait for no one. Unless you happen to be a very cute, smart, sensitive guy only then will I make an exception. I will step out of my comfort zone of being in control, being the boss of myself and everyone else around me and let this dream guy take charge. In doing this, I feel vulnerable, uncomfortable, and overall out of control.This sense of being out of control is...blech. That's the best way I can possibly put it. So, I let this fellow have this control and he dropped the ball to say the least. He left me wondering, waiting, and contemplating the reasons that could possibly be true in his not calling. My looks? Maybe. My character? Possibly. I have no idea what I did to deserve this, it is a conundrum in which I believe that I will never solve.

To make matters worse, I ran into him at the Relay for Life event that I participated in last night. What the heck was I supposed to do? By nature I am a non-confrontational gal, I do not like picking fights whatsoever. Leading me to act like nothing was bothering me and greeting him with a warm affectionate hug. I should have punched him in the throat. Instead, I plastered a smile to my face and pretended like I wasn't hurt. But I was. I admit it. He hurt my feelings. His actions made me question my self-esteem and made me feel like a worthless heap of trash. The thing about wronging a girl who writes is that ultimately you will end up in a blog. Actual events and my perceptions of them will collide into a heated mesh of words, a topic that I know quite a bit about. I am a little like Taylor Swift in that regard, but instead of songs about guys I write blogs about guys. I will one day gain the strength to give him a heaping slice of  my mind with a large dollop of disdain as a garnish. To quote Julia Roberts in "Pretty Woman": "Big mistake. Big. Huge."

I am running on 3 hours of sleep and a sore heart today.