Who DOES that?

What kind of a person invests in a relationship, albeit an online one, strings someone along who has depression and an anxiety disorder, for SEVEN MONTHS, talks about living together, having kids, and basically living happily ever after...and then disappears off the face of the planet? How does someone like that live with themself? How do they look themselves in the mirror? How do they sleep at night?

Showered, drank a bottle of beer, bought some smokes, walked around the block...and I'm still fuming. If I knew where 'she' lived I'd be banging on the front door by now.

Fuck. FUUUCK! I'm fuckin' livid. But I like it. There's a lot more self-worth in anger than there is in depression or anxiety. That's the whole point for me - that it's so hard for someone like me to trust people in a relationship that sometimes my trust can swing from one extreme to another like a pendulum. I'm trying to take things at face value. I'm trying to ignore the demons. I'm trying not to be so affective. I'm trying to believe that the majority of people are good, and then somebody comes along and does this to me. People like this give humans a bad name.

Well I hope she/he/they're happy with their work. I hope they're satisfied with what they've done to me. I feel like I've been set back months. I can't even imagine being in a relationship now, I can't imagine a time when I will be able to trust someone enough to allow myself to depend on them, no matter how superficially. I feel nobody can be relied upon. Nobody can be trusted. Nobody can be given any margin of error, and if anyone gives me even the slightest cause to doubt them then I'm just going to drop them like a hot potato and walk away.

Now I will have to fight tooth and nail to keep myself from slipping into the train of thought that says that I just don't deserve happiness. That I don't ever deserve to feel content with my life. That I will never love or be loved again. That it's my fault. That I'm being punished for something. That it "serves me right". It must be true - after all, I only ever approach one woman at a time, and I hand-picked this particular woman out of hundreds. It's as if I was destined to be toyed with, frustrated, abused, tormented, pissed about.

That I will die alone.

Great. Fantastic. Now I somehow have to get my shit together, go downtown, and meet my editor. Brilliant. It's either that or I cower here and attempt to reschedule the meeting. But I need to get out...away from my Mac so I'm not clicking my Gmail 'refresh' button relentlessly in case she's e-mailed. So I'm not staring at the driver of every car that slows down as it approaches the house, in case it's her. So I'm not picking my cellphone up every five minutes in case she's called and I missed it.

I don't think I'll ever use a dating website again. Ever. I can't go through this again.