The D Word

The unread message count in my Gmail inbox has been displaying the devil’s number all day, so I decided it was time to clean house.

Flickr photo by gecko.juice

As I was deleting old messages, I came across a restaurant reservation confirmation from a couple of years ago.

My boyfriend at the time had forwarded the confirmation to get me excited about our upcoming date: Dinner and the symphony in San Francisco. The email itself wasn’t especially romantic — just four simple sentences. But reading it reminded me that, in my eyes, he was once a thoughtful, handsome, sweet gentleman who really cared for me. Once upon a time, I didn’t think he was a complete douchebag.

For a brief moment, I wished I could go back to that time. A time before we both said and did things to destroy our relationship. But then I remembered why I call him the D word and the wish quickly departed.

So what did he do to fall from grace? The story isn’t fit for this blog, so you’ll just have to take my word for it, but trust me, the douchebag title is warranted.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever care for a man who won’t shock me with his bad behavior. If my track record is any indication, the odds aren’t good, but I’m keeping the faith. And for now, I’ll just keep deleting the old.