Mood: Angry

I told him I was going to bed, because I didn't want to talk to him anymore.

I'm angry at myself for replying to that text. I'm angry that when I did reply, I wasn't an arrogant asshole. I want to beat the shit out of him. I want him to come within inches of death, only to be pulled back, painfully, permanently maimed. I want him to suffer as much as I have.

But I didn't. I was nice. And now I need to make sure that I never talk to him again... Being nice is not okay. I don't owe him shit. I should change my number again...

..Then again...
Is it sick that when he told me he was broke and had to beg his mother for money, I laughed? I felt a slight pang of joy?

Or maybe he was just lying and/or over exaggerating for pity, which is a trick of his. I'm still angry about his proclaimed 'christmas' gift. If it even existed, I'm sure he just gave it to his mother or Justine...

The only conclusion that I can come to currently, is to avoid all of the potential complications. Don't talk to him again. I'm happy. And I don't need the possible drama that he brings into any social situation.
.../sigh...
And sadly, that need of avoiding drama out weights my desire to be friends. I know it's right to avoid him. I just don't want to.

Maybe in a year or two....

And that's all I need to worry about. Work. And Eric. And my family.

3 more days until move-in.

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