Ran into DIB at the coffeeshop, and because the Universe has a sick sense of humor, wouldn’t you know it, there weren’t any open tables.  So, because I’m mature and above pettiness, I sat with him and had a fairly uneventful evening.  We talked some more, I reiterated that while, yes, I was happy to be talking to him again too, I didn’t see another way for me to come out of this relatively unscathed.  What I wanted to say was, “you chose, buddy, now you gotta live with it,” but I figured subtlety and tact were in order.  So again, things were going fine, I even offered to drive him home (because I’m a girl socialized to make life easier for other people).

In the process of going home, he started pushing the issue, whining that he didn’t understand why we couldn’t talk, making clumsy attempts to flirt, just all around being super annoying.  I drove him home in silence punctuated by exasperated sighs.  When we got to his apartment, he asked if he could text me later.  I had had it.  

“DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND WHAT NO TEXTING MEANS?” 

“But… but… I just don’t understand why I can’t talk to you.  Can I have a hug?”

And here’s where Smart Brittany won out.  Old Silly Brittany would have hugged him, he probably would’ve tried to kiss her, and she’d spend the next 3 months hanging on to someone who doesn’t want her enough to not be dating someone else.

But not Smart Brittany.  Smart Brittany looked him dead in the eye and told him “fuck no.”  Smart Brittany stopped being polite, stopped trying to cater to his feelings, stopped giving a shit whether or not he got hurt.  Smart Brittany then turned to the windshield and stopped talking, causing him to sheepishly get out of the car.  Smart Brittany noticed that he paused once outside as if waiting for her to roll down the window so he could say something.  Smart Brittany drove the fuck away without looking back.