So here I am at work, fully functional after the all-consuming, life-altering pain I went through 2 weeks ago. Isn´t it poetic how one feels one will never survive a broken heart and tragic that one usually does? Maturity is so unromantic.
This morning I was coming to work with Gonzalo, listening to Bono going on about “Love is a temple, love’s the higher law, you asked me to enter, and then you make me crawl…” and I had to hold back a tear. Sucks how long it takes until the pain leaves the body. It’s kind of similar to quitting smoking, you spend the next month or so coughing up black guck…ok, gross, but thinking of Jake as black guck makes me feel better.
Yesterday Jake send me a message, saying he is in some conflict zone and will call me when he arrives in safe territory once more. And that I am still very special to him. Damn right I am. Damn him. Black guck.
So I am now wondering what the hell I’m going to do about Paul. Paul is the guy I met at Petra Downey’s wedding last weekend. Petra and I worked together at G&M, the great-global-advertising-agency. We are good friends, even though we had huge fights about her late arrivals due to extreme partying habits. Try being good friends when you’re a boss…
Petra met Phillip Duke partying and he turned out to be perfect. They got married last weekend at the family castle, so it turns out that partying was really good for her! I must be going to the wrong places, all I ever get from partying is a hangover…ok, and laughs, too. Must not get old and bitter.
Anyway, it was a big, traditional wedding. Jake promised he’d go with me. He was actually quite excited, said he loves weddings, dancing corny love songs (You’re my first, you’re my last…), etc. Then he broke up with me a week before because he realized he couldn’t make it after all because of work. And felt guilty about making me waste my time waiting for him. And was nobly letting me go, even though I will always be the love of his life…yeah, right.
And me? I was left sitting alone with three other couples at dinner.
Thank God for Paul. Paul is Phillip Duke’s friend and was introduced to me the night before, at a wedding-warm-up barbecue. The groom Phillip walked him straight up to me – “Diana, will you take care of him for me? He’s single…”(shoot me!) .
In any case, even after his opening line that left me wondering if he worked at border control “You live in Madrid? How come I’ve never seen you?” Paul was quite nice.
We met walking through the grounds of the castle the next day and had a good time. And, after I gave up hoping Jake would show up and beg for an apology at the wedding, he was right there to dance with me. Good man.
Problem is, he has now invited me to dinner. Next Friday night. He has nice eyes, but I am still suffering withdrawal symptoms about Jake. Alice Cooper (yes, I am a rock fan) said his lover was like poison running through his veins. Love and philosophy. Black guck.
This morning I was coming to work with Gonzalo, listening to Bono going on about “Love is a temple, love’s the higher law, you asked me to enter, and then you make me crawl…” and I had to hold back a tear. Sucks how long it takes until the pain leaves the body. It’s kind of similar to quitting smoking, you spend the next month or so coughing up black guck…ok, gross, but thinking of Jake as black guck makes me feel better.
Yesterday Jake send me a message, saying he is in some conflict zone and will call me when he arrives in safe territory once more. And that I am still very special to him. Damn right I am. Damn him. Black guck.
So I am now wondering what the hell I’m going to do about Paul. Paul is the guy I met at Petra Downey’s wedding last weekend. Petra and I worked together at G&M, the great-global-advertising-agency. We are good friends, even though we had huge fights about her late arrivals due to extreme partying habits. Try being good friends when you’re a boss…
Petra met Phillip Duke partying and he turned out to be perfect. They got married last weekend at the family castle, so it turns out that partying was really good for her! I must be going to the wrong places, all I ever get from partying is a hangover…ok, and laughs, too. Must not get old and bitter.
Anyway, it was a big, traditional wedding. Jake promised he’d go with me. He was actually quite excited, said he loves weddings, dancing corny love songs (You’re my first, you’re my last…), etc. Then he broke up with me a week before because he realized he couldn’t make it after all because of work. And felt guilty about making me waste my time waiting for him. And was nobly letting me go, even though I will always be the love of his life…yeah, right.
And me? I was left sitting alone with three other couples at dinner.
Thank God for Paul. Paul is Phillip Duke’s friend and was introduced to me the night before, at a wedding-warm-up barbecue. The groom Phillip walked him straight up to me – “Diana, will you take care of him for me? He’s single…”(shoot me!) .
In any case, even after his opening line that left me wondering if he worked at border control “You live in Madrid? How come I’ve never seen you?” Paul was quite nice.
We met walking through the grounds of the castle the next day and had a good time. And, after I gave up hoping Jake would show up and beg for an apology at the wedding, he was right there to dance with me. Good man.
Problem is, he has now invited me to dinner. Next Friday night. He has nice eyes, but I am still suffering withdrawal symptoms about Jake. Alice Cooper (yes, I am a rock fan) said his lover was like poison running through his veins. Love and philosophy. Black guck.
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