Karma.
I decided that all this drama with Nate was Karma's fault. Damn, now there's a real bitch for you. Karma was coming back to bite me in the ass for all the bitchy things I did and hearts I broke (need I remind you of Peter? Steve? Jonah? Who knows who else...) in my path of destruction that I called dating.


Were there a slew of hearts out there agonizing over me the way I was agonizing over Nate? I was sitting there dying inside and Karma was there to take pictures and put 'em up on facebook as the poster child for dating roadkill... I kept hoping Ashton Kutcher'd show up and be all like "got you bitch, you been punk'd!"


The Banshee pointed out I needed closure if I was going to get over Nate. But how do you get closure when the guy won't take your calls?


"Email" The Banshee said. If nothing else, I could get it off my chest, all the things I was thinking, even if it was likely the email would eventually end up in the inbox of his next date/lover/victim


So, I wrote him an email. anyway. This email:

Dear Nate,

How are you? I hope that you are doing well. After not hearing from you for some time, I have come to one of the following 3 conclusions for your lack of communications.

1) there has been a family tragedy. I truly hope this is not the case, but if it is, I send my deepest sympathy.

2) you were involved in a terrible table saw accident during one of your home renovation projects that cut off both your hands making it impossible for you to call, text or email, in which case I also send my regards and wish you a speedy recovery.

3) you just aren't that in to me, which given the way things were going between us, I find this excuse highly suspect, especially since you seemed to have much interest getting into me several times over the last few weeks.

But since you are obviously a spineless asswipe who doesn't have the decency and respect for a woman to at the very least tell her you didn't think things were going where you hoped, I guess I'll never know what happened. It's too bad you don't have the balls to actually tell me that, as opposed to ignoring me and hoping I'll go away.

I liked you, Nate. I did, I really did. But I hate that for whatever reason, you decided I wasn't good enough for you; that I let you make me feel like that was true. What I hate more however is that I deemed you worthy of me. All the while I was thinking you were too good to be true, I was missing the fact that I was too good for you. You don't deserve me, and you sure as shit don't deserve me wasting anymore of the pretty on you.

So fuck you, Nate. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you.

PS - I gave Karma your address and she's coming for you.

After I hit send, I broke down and made a thousand apologies to the universe for whoever it was I may have hurt. I apologized to myself for breaking my own heart with my own foolishness for thinking Nate was anything special. Because he wasn't. He was a jerk with no courage to face a woman. I couldn't make him love me or even like me for that matter. I couldn't make him take my calls or answer my text messages or emails.

But I could my heart back, at least what was left of it and make a vein attempt to piece it back together. I promised my heart that I would shield and protect it from the pain that seems to come with me giving it away so easily. I promised my heart it would never hurt like that again. I promised to keep my heart close to me and promised to love me first.

I also decided that I was done with dating for awhile...