Between the ridiculously stressful week at work, the last dregs of this cough/cold (I am never smoking pot ever again), and the 10,000 things I have needed to plan for my trip before I leave on Monday, I have had little time to think about Ben. I was more focused on the dozens of tasks I needed to complete at the office before my two-week absence. I was more preoccupied with thinking about everything I needed to pack for my journey, while calming my fears of travelling alone to a new continent, to a country where I don't speak the language to go backpacking and camping for the first time in my life. In fact, I should be packing instead of writing this, but I need to vent.
I've had quite a lot going on. Yet there were still moments where my mind would circle back to Ben. On Wednesday morning, when Polly came into work, I went into her office and cried and cried. A little while later, I went down to Coworker Chris's office and lather-rinse-repeated. I cried bitter, humiliated tears at being rejected in such a cruel way. The morning's sadness faded away as the day went on, hardening into something sharper, brighter, colder: anger.
I have spent these last few days in a controlled rage. I don't care if he was upset about being back at the bar instead of waving his dick around onstage, or if he was coming down from a coke binge, or if he was just plain bored and cranky. The way he treated Roommate Rachel and me is inexcusable. He was disrespectful to both of us, invading her personal space with his questions and physical contact, and alternately being rude to and ignoring me.
In a way, he did me a favor. Whatever spell I was under, it's been lifted. Whatever fog I was lost in has cleared. Any affection I felt for Ben has been replaced with a black hatred.
I can't believe I got so carried away all these months. I can't believe I read so much into our minute interactions, believed there was something there. I can't believe I put him up on such a pedestal, gave him credit for being this great person even as I was receiving information to the contrary.
They say living well is the best revenge and I will have my vengeance. Starting tonight. I will not let Ben keep me from my favorite bar, but I will let him see what a great time I have there, with my friends and with other men. I will be impervious to his dark gazes and cloying caresses. I will not be one of the many who still become hypnotized by his dubious charm; instead I will exhibit nothing towards him but icy indifference.
I know being so angry isn't healthy, but it's providing a good catalyst for getting on with things, for shifting my focus away from the unworthy and insignificant. The rage will subside and I will bask in my new emotional freedom, breathing easy, no longer haunted by that handsome, smug son of a bitch.
What a perfect time to leave the country.