He was at archery tonight. I avoided him, and he avoided me.

I has a good as time as I could. I can't do anything else. I laughed as much as I could. Scott, Alison's significant other, was there and rubbed my shoulders. I immediately professed my undying love for him. (He has magic fingers.)

Crystals' husband, whose named I don't remember, and I chatted a lot, and he made fun of me for showing up at archery and barely shooting.

I mostly go to socialize. I did shoot some, and had some damned good luck.

I must say, my new arrows, the ones that Gareth gave me, are about a million times better than the ones Paul made for me.

The Paul ones are pretty (neon yellow shafts with pink stars, black and pink fletching and black nocks and tips), but the one's Gareth gave me shoot with way more accuracy. I think the Paul arrows are too light. They leap off the bow wildly and randomly. The Gareth arrows leap a bit, but no more than the loaner arrows do. They're a few inches longer, too, which helps, I think.

They're beautiful too, but not Awesome like the Paul arrows. The Gareth arrows have mahogany colored shafts with two gold bands at the end, black fletching and black nocks and tips. Really, beautiful.

Also, I might note, Gareth gives great hugs. All consuming, all enfolding, affectionate warm squeezes.

But not weird-like. Gareth has a fiancee, and is devoted to her in a way I can only hope I find some day.

Paul spent most of his time with Robin, Susan's eight year old daughter, teaching her how to shoot her tiny twenty pound bow. I don't even know if it was twenty pounds.

I was really sweet to watch, actually. I decided to not be angry at him for a few minutes, and appreciate how good he is with children.

Just to note, I'm still viciously angry at him.

He didn't try talking to me until well after archery, at the bar. He said goodbye to everyone at the table, and to me last.

And he called me Rose, just as he was passing.

And he KNOWS that gets my goat.

Anyway--

Oh, just as a side note, I was feeling a little charitable towards him at the bar. Normally he's the life of the party, laughing and joking and having a good time, but he was really quiet for the whole time, and spent most of his time talking quietly to James, and staring at his food. This is very unusual for him. It was nice to see him without his public face on, while in public.

Anyway, he says goodbye to me and calls me Rose, so I turn around and yell (the bar was loud):

"Don't call me Rose, y'asshole!"

Not mean-like. But y'know.

He glances over his shoulder and gives a wicked grin, that was more than a little sad, and leaves.

I don't know what he was hoping to gain from calling me Rose, whether it was a genuine slip-up, or he did it on purpose.

I'm confused and sad still. A little less angry, but still angry enough to want to tear a strip down one side of him and up the other.

Goddamn. I want to be over that man. I want to be full and whole and in control of my emotions. I want to be able to offer my heart again, but Paul still has significant parts of it.

Fucktard.

But a fucktard I still care about.

I wish I didn't.

Before&After