Pretty sure this isn’t how it’s supposed to feel

I un-quit today.

I wish I were dead.

Every time I downed a whole bottle of wine … flipped a coin … woke up from a dream (or drunken stupor) … or asked the universe which boss to pick, the answer was universal. “T.” Every goddamned time.

I picked M.

I emailed M at 7 a.m. to say he wins. By 9 a.m., not only had he told the whole staff, but he asked me to address the staff. Say something encouraging, he suggested.

I spun my sugar. People were pleased. Enthralled. Full of applause. And they came by to say thank you for staying. We need you, they said. You care so much. You give me hope, they added. If you believe, then I can too, they emphasized.

God, I am this guy’s student. Spin control. Master marketer. I earned my stripes today alone. Well and in the six years leading up to this day.

Privately, I prayed for death.

“Trapped in each other’s arms
We got the best of us
We keep each other warm
But we both know it’s not enough.”

Dark Waves, “I Don’t Wanna Be In Love”

I believe I made the right choice for me. For today.

But then I drove to my would-be new office … the one I stood in front of Saturday and Sunday with a metaphorical boombox … and cried the whole way back.

I saw my would-be boss. And “broke up” with him, so to speak.

I wish I were dead. I really do. I really fucked up. I can’t convince myself otherwise right now.

I had a very bad day. Constant flow of tears not withstanding. I got to meet his dog and I’m like, “I could have worked in your office with your sweet puppy? Mother of God. What have I done?”

I didn’t say that. I did bawl. Didn’t meant to go there to do that. But still. I am out of my fucking mind.

He gets it. We parted friends, the way we started. I said I hope you hire someone fabulous. I said I hope that if you don’t, and if I feel the way I do today — just one hour after making my decision — you will think of me again.

I think this ship sailed. And I am so, so very sorry for that.

I have very little relationship experience. I’ve fucked many. Dozens. Probably more than dozens. But knowing a good guy from a bad boy … and picking the good guy? I ain’t real good at. Not even in my career.

Ultimately I think I picked right. It was just a really bad day. And my emotions are so very raw. I mean, I just dumped the guy who would love me in favor of the guy who will take care of me. I wish I were dead. I’m so drunk and I can’t stop crying and OMG why God why did I not follow my heart?

I’ll tell you why. When I follow my gut, it leads me to the buffet. This time, I followed my brain. I am hoping for a better — or, at least, more prosperous — outcome.

But I won’t lie. I am already missing the one who got away. The one I let slip away. And I know it.

I’m sorry, T. He needs me more … but you are the one who deserves me. I know you can’t wait for me. And I will love you forever, even still.

I just need to take care of momma and me. I know you understand. That would makes one of us. You knew me better than I knew myself. Which makes me sadder still.

Is this pain ever going to end? OMG I can’t do this, if not.

Some people have great love stories. Mine are all with employers. Especially the ones I let get away …

Can I Get an 'Amen'?