End of Summer Lament

What a weird summer.  I got a niece and nephew and a sister-in-law.  I had a great job and met some neat people but didn't realize until now I wasn't having much  fun outside of that.  I didn't see many old friends, or camp or go to the fair or the beach or do any other traditional summer things.  I was sick for the better part of the summer it seems, and then there was that darn summer school!

So now it's the last few days of freedom and I've got lots of work to do to finish up my job commitments...I don't want to go back to school!  I hate it!

I'm a few weeks away from turning 30 so that adds to the need to reflect.  There was a glimmer of hope a few weeks ago that maybe I would actually kiss somebody before I reached that milestone.  Well we know how well that turned out.

Speaking of Walrus, on the way home from seeing him last night I realized he didn't smile the whole time.  Or laugh.  He indicated that he liked things, or thought things were funny, but his face can't spontaneously break into a smile.  It's so heartbreaking, the whole story.  I cried a little this morning thinking about it, then I snooped his facebook page.  I think the breakup with the fiancee was even more recent than I had previously thought.  In any case, it was only 'announced' with the status change on facebook in July.  And he's on OK Cupid in August?  He is not ready for that.  He mentioned her a few times last night, still calls her 'my fiancee' and not 'the ex'.  So, so not ready.  And why am I mixed up in this and how quickly can I get myself out of it?

I am feeling a bit 'suckered'.  I am feeling my inexperience.  It feels like the universe is mocking me.  I don't understand why love hasn't happened for me.  I'm not ugly or dumb or mean so what am I doing wrong?

 My social life is so quiet...I have a former best friend I'm not speaking to, and a whole wack of relationships that I let die away because they were tied to her....

I just want to cry a big weeping sobbing gasping glubber.  I haven't cried, properly, in two or three years.  I didn't even cry when Angie died.