Shame on me.

Yes, shame on me. I screwed up again. I now see how all the bad drama when I first dated Ivan is repeating itself.

When I first dated Ivan we just hooked up and then I realized he kept flirting with other girls. There was one time I was hanging out in his room and this other female friend of his dropped by drunk in her mini-skirt and lay down in his bed flashing her panties completely. There was also another female married friend of his who called him multiple times every day just to chat and even delivered their hometown food to him frequently. Lastly there was another bitch from his hometown who never stopped sending him flirty emails/texts and long-distance phone calls; Ivan told me the bitch flirted with everybody and he never replied to her messages but eventually after our breakup Ivan began a new relationship with her immediately.

When these things first took place I tried really hard not to care but eventually it just hurt too much and I burst into tears once in front of him. He comforted me and told me he cared about me and all that bullshit but never gave me a confirmation of officially being with me. I trusted him and continued our relationship with me being unilaterally exclusive to him but he never stopped flirting with those girls so I proposed our first breakup a couple of weeks later, even though we had never been officially together back then.

This is happening again with me and Cato. Last night I saw him flirt with some girls physically and got really depressed so I went out to for a cigarette with some nice guy I just met even though I was still suffering from my sore throat. Later he took me to dinner and went back to my place and made out and all that stuff. During the dinner we talked about the serious issue, i.e. whether he was serious with me or not. He said he didn't know, but he does care about me and want to be by my side. This whole bullshit simply reminded me of how Ivan treated me; he just wanted the sex and maybe the victory of winning someone's virginity because they lost their first time to someone who was not a virgin. However, at the moment I did not over-analyze it and still thought it was sweet of him to say that to me so I continued to feel romantic. After the dinner we walked back to my place and he held my hand. I asked him why because during the dinner he told me he didn't like PDA but he still took the initiative after dinner. He said he'd try to change and I told him he didn't have to change anything for me.

Today I hung out with Tanner and he told me I was played. I believe Tanner was right because this morning Cato did not allow me to make him breakfast, which meant he does not want me to devote more than he does. Unfortunately I already bought some vegetarian stuff for him. Also he and I barely talked over the past week, and haven't talked or texted each other at all since he left my apartment today. I thought he was too busy with work to talk to me last week (because I was )but then I realized he actually went to quite a few parties. Last night we slept in spoon the whole time but I felt distant already; I wanted to cry so much yet I just couldn't squeeze out any tear. I think this is the end.

Tanner said I shouldn't take that flirting thing too seriously because he also knows the girl very well and he does the same thing to the girl as well, although I still need to be cautious with the reality. However, I will always be jealous and hurt if I see someone I care about does that to some other girl; I cannot change how I feel. I have already lowered a lot of my expectations on a guy but how I feel will always be the same.

If this is the end then I lose a friend. I lose Cato as a friend, just like how I lost JJ as a friend, and yes, everyone else I hooked up with. I turned Cato into a jerk like how I turned every other nice guy into a jerk. This is unbelievable. I think this is fate, or genetic, or whatever; I am doomed never to be loved. It took me 13 months since JJ to finally develop something romantic and physical with a guy and I fucked it up again. It seems like I am destined to be a nun.

Our trip to the City of Money, our three-hour nonstop philosophical conversation on the train, our lengthy conversation on what love is on our way to the night club, our first conversation about how I was born and how his family is like, which I can't say here, his first asexual sleepover at my place and making me breakfast the next morning, our first kiss, and everything else, poof! All gone. All because of me. It's all my fault again. I have given up on believing, and what I need most right now is a big good cry. I probably have to catch up with my therapist and see if she could make me cry, if I can't do it myself.