Ok, so I broke down and thought that I would try to call him and see, A. What his excuse was...B. If he even had one...and C. If he would even answer the phone.
All of them were a no, because if you picked door number C, you were right. He didnt even answer the phone. I was just boiling as I heard his voicemail pick up.
At first, I was just going to hang up. But NOOOOOO, I left a message for him.
Hey, its me. I am going to take your absence of communication to mean you arent coming back. Well, let it be known that I am not a Public Self Storage facility. (click)
This reminds me of something "MrDiamond" said to me a while ago. He said, "When you bend metal, you can never get it perfectly straight again. same with you. although you are resiliant, every time you get hurt, you are somehow changed and different. i am afraid that some guy is **really** going to bend you and somehow change you to the point, that I may no longer recognize you anymore."
I hate this. I hate this feeling. I hate everything that comes with trusting someone only to have them turn around and slap you in the face.