Off Sides

Otherwise, I'm always in danger of just falling back asleep. I put my pillow over my head and try to ignore it. When that doesn't work, I throw my pillow at it and it makes a direct hit, knocking the clock to the floor. Except, it's still shrieking at me. I simply take my other pillow and cover my head with it.
    It's been five days since my date with Ryan and he hasn't called me. I'm depressed and I know it, and I hate myself that I feel this way. I should have more fortitude than I’m showing right now.
    I spent the day after our date replaying everything over in my mind. I spent a lot of time thinking of our last kiss. I couldn't help but imagine what comes after a kiss like that. In theory, I know what happens after a kiss like that. In reality, well...let's just say I have to rely on my imagination.
    When I had not heard from Ryan the day after our date, I was a little worried and slightly annoyed. I sent him a quick text the following morning:
    Hi. R U ok?
    He texted back fairly quickly.
    Yup. Something came up. Call u later.
    I immediately felt better after getting his text and went about spending another day waiting for him to call. Except, rather than walking on clouds and day-dreaming about our phenomenal kiss, I obsessed about why he had not called. I had a nagging feeling that something wasn't quite right. Thinking of every possible reason why he wouldn’t call, I was convinced by the end of that second day I would not hear from him.
    And I didn't.
    No calls, no texts. Nothing.
    I didn't bother to text him again. A stalker I was not.
    By the end of the third day with no word from him, I deleted his contact information from my phone.
    The alarm is still shrieking and Paula's bedroom door opens. "What the fu-u—udge, Danny? Turn that damn thing off."
    I ignore her and the alarm. Lying here in bed and ignoring everything is what's on the agenda today. I have a blessedly rare day to myself with no work obligations, no school and I plan on having a date with my pillow.
    My door opens and footsteps pad across the floor. The alarm turns off and there is now oppressive silence. My mattress dips down and I know Paula is lying in my bed beside me. I don't move.
    "Are you just going to lay here?"
    "Yes," I mumble. "And I'd appreciate it if you leave me alone."
    Paula is silent for several seconds and then the pillow is ripped off my head and the covers are pulled back.
    "Alright. I've had it with you. You are no longer allowed to sulk, pine, mope, pout or glower. You're going to get your ass up and get back on with your life."
    I roll over and look at Paula. She is grinning at me, completely unapologetic for her vigorous tactics to get me out of bed. I couldn't help but to smile back at her.
    "So how are you feeling, kiddo?"
    Flipping in the opposite direction, I roll completely off the bed and stand up. Stretching my arms upward, I give a huge yawn. "I'm fine. Besides, you know I'm really not one to lie around and bemoan anything. It is indeed time for me to move on."
    "True dat. I've never met anyone that tries as hard as you do to get past something hurtful."
    I grimace at her words. They are true but they make me sound callous. Whenever anything bad has happened to me, I tend to grieve pretty hard but then I tuck it away and try not to look back. That has worked well so far dealing with both of my parents' deaths. Not so well with the loss of my music. And the jury is still out how I am going to let Ryan's brush-off affect me.
    Gosh, I so want to just kick my ass right now for falling so easily for that man. I knew better! I have a very specific agenda to complete certain things in my life, and I have no business getting sidetracked. That includes going gooey over a hot hockey player who kisses like Armageddon is just on the other side of the horizon.
    "I think I'm going to go for a run this morning. Want to join me?"
    Paula snorts at me. No matter how many times I've invited her to run with me or workout, she always has the same answer. "Let's see...running or cigarettes? I choose cigarettes."
    Giving her a good eye roll for measure, I head to our tiny bathroom to brush my teeth. It's definitely time to move on.
    ***

    Heading out of my apartment, I see the sun has already risen but it's still quite chilly. The decision to wear my light weight running jacket and long pants is smart. I plan on doing five miles today so I will probably be burning up by the time I get back.
    Opening the front door to my