unfair, and unpretty.

So, last night, after I went to LA to see (let's call him Mr. Pink), we were going back to his house after a movie when he told me that he wasn't going to want me to stay. After what I considered a really amazing weekend, I naturally asked why. He said he didn't want to hurt me, but I insisted on knowing.

It is better to know the truth. It is better to know the truth. It is. I know it is, logically. Even when it hurts in it's pettiness, and more than it should because I look like a fool.

Mr. Pink told me that he didn't think I was attractive anymore. Calmly, I asked if he'd felt the same way Saturday and looked past it because, well, he wanted a last fling before he left. He didn't know. I asked if that was the case, he shouldn't have asked me to come out again, and he said he was hoping he was remembering it with guilt shadowing it and that the "magic" would still be there for us.

I'm so...devastated. And it's an overreaction. So what? He used me and didn't think I was pretty. He's definitely not the first and probably not the last. In his benefit, he was the first to be brutally honest with me when I requested it, and I know from experience that being the teller can be harder than being the listener.

I think part of why I'm so hurt is because he made me feel so absolutely beautiful and loved on Saturday. That's why it was so special for me. He knew that part of my personal philosophy is that, no, not every woman is a stunner, and I am part of that group. I'm mediocre, average, standard...all of the above, and that's all right. There's nothing wrong with that. He told me, over and over again, how beautiful he thought I was, how grateful he was for me. And I believed him completely. And I was completely wrong.

It's like a huge part of my heart that I trust with is dented. I feel like now, his baggage has metamorphosed into mine, and that I'll never believe someone who calls me pretty again. Because logically, I know.. I look okay. And I know that his guilt over sex and unhappiness with his own looks, et cetera, are all part of why his opinion changed about me and why he felt the need to use someone. But still.

Now more than before, the thought of being around my friends that are couples is nauseating. I don't feel like my heart can take seeing that kind of adoration when the last two months has been one long riverdance on all the good parts of my heart that I try to keep open to possibilities and have been smashed. I'm quitting, for awhile. My hope for pretty much everything has been worn down to a nub: hope for financial security, gone. Hope for a home of my own: gone. Hope for finding someone who won't use and hurt me: gone, too.

Yeah. Thanks for reading.