I’ve been sort of miserable since last week. Of course the Peter situation ended badly- was there even the slightest possibility that it would have turned out well? As usual I thought things were great until I got home and he told me he couldn’t do it. “I can’t force myself to love you.”

I’ve been pushing myself to keep busy so that I get this all out of my head. It is after all my fault for actually thinking that this time would be different from the other times. That when he emailed me saying “I love you, I want to date you” he actually meant it. What he really meant was “I’ll pretend to love you, have you believe that I care about you, sleep with you, and then ditch you.”

It helped that one of my best girlfriends came home from Texas for the weekend. We went all out for the night- out for a great dinner, then over to her house to get ready with all of the girls. We then grabbed Brian and John and went out in Old City. Immediately my girlfriends and I were flocked by a group of guys. They asked to buy us drinks, and they did (minus me, I wasn’t drinking).

As they’re talking, I see this guy in the room that looks really familiar. It hits me, I grab Jenny’s arm, and she starts cracking up. He used to work in this store that we shop at, and I used to drool over him every time we went there. Mer catches on, and the two are immediately trying to push me to go hit on him. After a ton of convincing (which also included the two of them recruiting his friend- “You are completely his type!”) I went over and introduced myself. It was terribly awkward, he sort of just stared at me smiling, forgot to even tell me his name. His friend jabs him in the side, and he remembers to tell me that it’s Evan. To make it even more awkward, another guy decides to pretend like he needs to get behind me, and then tells me that he just needed a reason to talk to me. He’s hitting on me while I’m hitting on another guy.

I pulled myself away from that corner to find a drunk Jenny dancing by herself. At this point Mer is making out with some hot guy in the corner, Lauren has left with her hookup, and Brian and John are drunk at the bar. Jenny insists we pull out the breathalyzer that I keep with me. She blows a 3.0 and dances to celebrate. The breathalyzer is attracting the attention of another group of guys, who come over and introduce themselves. I get to talking to an absolutely adorable guy who also isn’t drinking (“I’m the DD tonight”). He tells me that he went to undergrad at the same school that I’m going to grad school at for the same program, and I’m even more attracted to him. Thenhe tells me that he’s a police officer for the NYPD, hoping to become a sergeant. My body is completely facing him at this point, and Jenny takes that as a sign to grab his friends and go to the bar to do shots. We decided that she is an awesome wingman. The guy is telling me all about the academy when he throws in “You’ll get torn apart in there.” He sees that I’m offended, and stutters “I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just that there aren’t any hot girls like you in there.”

This is the point that the bar decides to turn on the lights to close, and one of my friends grabs me by the arm and pulls me away. My group is ready to go, and I only get a quick chance to say goodbye to the guy. I’m pissed off as I’m driving home, dropping everyone off. I grabbed my purse to pull out my cell phone, and I see a napkin tucked into the side of it with the bar’s name on it. On the other side, there’s a number written on it, New York zip code. I haven’t called yet- I’ve had bad luck with New York guys. I also have a lot on my plate: I’m still seeing the guy in the relationship, I’m also still talking to TBFC and The New Guy (new guy and I are supposed to be getting dinner on Wednesday).

After three hours of sleep I got up for the race. I was absolutely pumped, met up with my friend’s family to drive over. The race was absolutely phenomenal, and it was amazing to see so many people out there supporting a cause. I raised a good amount of money individually, and the race raised thousands. Afterwards we headed over to my friend’s uncle’s house to eat a huge Italian breakfast and tell stories about Amy. It was beautiful and it was heartbreaking.

 So… do you guys think I should call the cop?

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