He cancelled on me.

Again.

And again, that dull humiliation. Ripped off. Pissed off. But this time that too-familiar brew brought with it a fresh realisation. This man does not belong on a pedestal. This is not someone special, not a once in a lifetime anything. I’m worth more than this. I’ll try not to go too far and say he’s worthless, he isn’t, he’s a wonderful man. And I certainly won’t say pathetic, but the word and its kin have flashed in my mind more than once before being guiltily dismissed.

It’s with a light heart that I abandon the idea of us. It seems eerily easy. I feel like I’ve quit smoking and realised how easy it was all along. What the fuck did I ever smoke for?

It might get harder, and that’s fine.

This is good.

I feel good.