Tag Archives: rejection

Rejected again

No post today. Well, just this short explanation. I was rejected by a friend I asked to be in a relationship. I wanted a romantic relationship with her but, she isn’t in the place in life to do so. Sometimes that happens.

She’s still a blogger friend. We remain friends with boundaries and a clear platonic blog friendship. For now, I need a break from her site…

So, this is all I can do. Write.

I feel like I’ve been cursed in the month of February with dating.

At least this time, I handled it maturely. So I have that going for me, at least.

Maybe I’m just not suited to do so. I feel like quitting it entirely. I’m 36 going on 37, and the whole dating experience is just painful rejection with tiny glimpses of success that are squashed.

Healthy romance feels like a fantasy.

I hate dating.


Saturday night edit: Heart break sucks.

The last at bat


How could you respond to a handwritten letter… with a text message?

Your throwing at my head, but I swing and miss as I fall backward into the ground to avoid your fastball.

Strike 1. Fastball. Swung and missed.

Surprise me with your relationship status, yet keep it vague?

I mutter to myself in the batter’s box that no answer is an answer.

I dug in my back foot in the dirt of the batter’s box as I have done every at bat in my life. Slide my left foot parallel to my back right foot. Wind my bat in a circle clockwise. I’m in my stance ready to hit. 

Love isn’t a game to me.

Strike two: A slider on the outer corner of the strike zone. 

You can’t fool me with your knuckleballs. 

I fouled both off in the upper decks. Would’ve been a home run if they’d only been 2 feet closer to the foul poles.

I’m not going to strike out again.

Everyone was fooled when I bunted strike two.

I knew I’d be out if I missed the sweet spot of the barrel of the bat.

I simply didn’t care anymore.

This is the kind of hitter I am. 

I’d rather it could be a productive out than not.

Strike 3: a fouled off fastball inside. Foul tip caught by the catcher.

That’s 3 outs! Game over!

I’d rather be out by you, and never face you again. 

I’d rather try someone else. 

I now know I need further seasoning in the minor leagues. 

Going 0-5 will do that.

I’m tired of this organization, and it’s tired of me.

I’m looking to start fresh with a new one. 

They thought I was worthy of a shot at the Major Leagues, and I never appreciated them for that. Though they drafted me, it was time for change. 

I still have a shot with someone else. My batting mechanics need work.

But I can still play defense.

I guess it was a long shot to hit a home run off of a Major League all star as a pinch hitter.

I’ll tip my cap to you if we ever meet again.

And that folks is the end of tonight’s game. 

It was a cold sunny February day.

The roof was closed in the stadium.

This has been your Announcer, Reilly Anderson.

That’ll be all from me,

Now for the post game show.


The end.

PS thoughts

I’m taking a different approach today since last week’s post was 2 days late. I’ll be busy today, going to a local protest march and errands, so I’ll be doing a couple small posts in the time between stuff.

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Don’t forget to wash your hands, clean your cell phone, and keep your physical distance from others to fight Covid-19! The facebook page is also what I use to post updates if late, like I was last week.

Milestones among Gravestones

Surprise milestone post! It’s already been 1 month since I started this blog! Yay!

Today marks 9 weeks since the breakup in Pivot. 2 months since I had a nervous breakdown and went to the hospital.  It’s been 2 months since I quit drinking alcohol. 3 months since everyone was laid off at my previous employer. Friday was the first day I felt neutral. Joy sprinkled throughout the day.

Milestones among gravestones

The rejection/break up was my last attempt at dating that woman. I couldn’t move past my feelings despite the long tenure of the relationship. I tried, failed badly, and couldn’t be friends with someone I loved, who didn’t feel the same. I chose to end it. I told myself over and over again in 2019 that I would accept the outcome, no matter what happens. I was tired of all the baggage from the relationship and wanted a different life. You miss all the shots you take, and I didn’t want to regret missing out. In a cruel twist I got regrets and missed. Sigh…

There were good times, despite the nuclear end. This is my biggest disappointment in life so far. Now I know it’s better to shoot for the stars and fail. I tried and had nothing to lose!  I wish I was A-romantic or Asexual, but I simply am not. All I know for certain… Is that I am Heartbroken. My guess is that I have a long time still to grieve. I have a pile of things to fix about myself. No more shitty apologies. No more vague goodbyes. No more being a coward.

For readers considering a confession letter themselves… Don’t. Ask them out in person. In fact, don’t write a love letter at all unless you are already dating. Are officially committed to another. Have been together for years.  If you fail, it hurts far worse than a normal rejection. When you end a relationship, do it in person (unless it is not safe to do so). I did everything wrong. What I regret most is not communicating clearly. I believed in the fantasy of the crush, in soulmates and all that bullshit… When in retrospect, we had grown apart over the years. We are different people… Opposites. And that’s okay! Oof.

It wasn’t meant to be anymore. As soon as I can, I’m moving out. It’s far past time. I’m sick of being a man-child hermit. For too long I’ve used my mental health problems as a crutch. I’m disappointed how it ended. I’m disappointed that I couldn’t fully be myself in that relationship anymore. I have to move on. It hurts too much. It’s over.

A new beginning…

I was a casual social drinker. I did enjoy the aroma and taste of some liquors, but being drunk was meh. Every type of drink gave me immediate hangovers. Beer and wine the worst. That day 2 months ago I poured out my liquor cabinet and haven’t looked back since. It did suck to pour out a $75 bottle of absinthe, and a $40 bottle of bourbon (Seattle booze prices are crazy. But it’s how nobody in the state wants to pay income taxes despite all the wealth.). I later learnt that there were 3 consecutive generations of men on my father’s (Credit to my grandfather who quit and never looked back!) side with alcohol problems. My dad died from drunk driving after 1 drink. (I’m planning a post later this year about it.) I don’t mind if you do drink. There is no excuse for drunk driving. Ever. Get an Uber, ask for a ride, take the bus, walk. Don’t do it.

A week after the end of the relationship, I had a nervous breakdown. All the grief hit me at once. Here I am now despite being burned again and again by therapy. That darkness was depression. Whispering lies to me at my most vulnerable. Don’t be afraid or ashamed of having mental illnesses. It’s a health problem just like breaking a leg. I admit treatment is tricky because insurance makes it impossible, and because our brains are incredibly complex. Nobody tells you it’s a marathon journey to healing. The benefits like receiving dollars for pennies. We’re all going to die anyway. So, be the best version of yourself that you are right now. Failure and mistakes are necessary for success. Might as well take a chance. You might succeed.

Every day it gets a little easier… But you gotta do it every day — that’s the hard part. But it does get easier.”

― Jogging Baboon from BoJack Horseman. 

Songs of the post:

I by Kendrick Lamar:

A change Gonna Come by Sam Cooke:

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© Reilly Anderson. 2020. All rights reserved.

Edit: Whoops! Repeated a paragraph!