And life goes on.

It's myself that I have to forgive, really, and it's ridiculous that I haven't yet. It has certainly been long enough. I'm going to have to find a way, because as much as I might like to, I can't go back and make it so I never met her. And really, it's probably better that I can't. I did learn some very valuable things from the experience, and I don't doubt that I'm ultimately better off for it.

But there's still a pretty strong what-the-hell-was-I-thinking factor. All I really wanted was a free place to stay while I was in her area for a weekend. Then sex happened, and I ended up getting emotionally invested in something I knew perfectly well could never actually work. I knew we were fundamentally incompatible from the beginning, and I let myself get involved anyway. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The problem is me. It's not her. It never was. Which really makes me feel horrible that I lost my temper (yet again) because she dared to send me a well-intentioned email wishing me a happy New Year and saying that she remembers me fondly and hopes I'm doing well. In my defense, she did promise to respect my space, but that's really more of an excuse than a defense.

I'm pretty sure I'm not a complete *******, but I feel like one right about now.