My Mom Stole My Weed (Thursday Night: Part II)

Tonight after work, Brandon walked up to the bar and said, "Hey."
I ignored him. Surely, he couldn't be talking to me.
"Hey, Peyton."
I stopped dead in my tracks.
"Yes?"
"Could you bring my glasses tomorrow?"
"Can I bring your glasses." I made it a statement.
"Yea...it's just a question..."
I didn't stop what I was doing, so as not to give him my full attention, and mostly, because I can't bear to look him in the eye.
"Yea, I have a whole bag of your shit, it's just at my place."
"So...should I wait?"
"Wait for what?"
"Well you said you had a bunch of my stuff..."
"Yea, at home. I'll bring it tomorrow." I walked off.
"There's no need for you to be hostile." He said.
"Look, Brandon, I just...don't wanna talk to you ok?"
"Why? I don't understand why you're mad at me?"
"You don't understand??" I sighed in frustrated exasperation. "Just...leave me alone, there is no reason for us to continue this conversation, and I have nothing else to say to you. I'll bring your shit tomorrow." I slammed the check presenter shut that I was wiping.
He finally walked off.

I can't believe he thinks I'm just gonna be nice to him, after all the hurtful things he said to me. What, like I'm just supposed to act like it never happened, and everything is hunkydorey!?!?
((Sigh))
After he left, Greg asked me what Brandon had asked for. I replayed the conversation for him.
"Do you think I was being too...hostile?"
"No, baby! Not at all, he said some really mean things to you, and there's no reason for you to not feel that way. Let him deal with it." Greg reassured me.

As soon as we finished counting tips, Greg's phone started ringing, he held it out to show me that it was Brandon calling. They chatted for a minute, Greg glanced my way a few times, then they hung up.
"He wants you to call him. He says you guys need to talk."
"ME?? No way! I am not calling him. Why does he suddenly want to talk??"
"I dunno, he said he's been blowing up your phone or something."
I checked my phone, no missed called, but 3 new texts.

1) We need to talk
2) Is this how you handle things? I know you have a least a little care for me. I don't like doing this. Will you call me please when you get off.
3) I don't want to argue with you. I just want to make simple peace with you. You can't avoid me. I work with you Peyton. It's just going to get worse if you keep building this hate for me.

Now, before you all go taking his side, let me just point out a few things.

1) Exactly a week ago, I wanted to talk. Before we broke up, before any of this shit went down, I sent him a very similar text, asking him to call me when he got off, or stop by, because I really wanted to talk to him. He didn't even do me the courtesy of responding. Why does he suddenly care?? Why is talking so important now that we're broken up, but it didn't matter when we were together?!? WTF?!???
2) I am so hurt right now, everything he said to me... And all signs are pointing to he wants to fuck some other girl(s)...so yes. This is how I'm handling it. I'm channeling my hurt, into anger. Towards him. Because if I can't get him out of my sight, I can't get him out of my mind. And the more I think about it, the more it hurts, and the harder it is for me to move on.
3) Peace? PEACE?!?!?! YOU BROKE MY FUCKING HEART, YOU BASTARD! I'M NOT GONNA BE YOUR FUCKING BEST BUDDY! AND IT SURE IS HELL ISN'T MY JOB TO MAKE LIFE MORE CONVENIENT FOR YOU! The only reason he even suddenly cares is because work is becoming hard, inconvenient. It's always about him! And you know what??? I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!!! Grow a pair of balls, and deal with it yourself you fucking pussy, because I'm not going to help you make your life easier any more. I'm done. Done wasting my words, my time, my effort, and my emotions on you, if I can help it. So, no. We will not make "simple peace" just so you can go to work, and slap a smile on your face, and pretend everything is fine when IT'S NOT.
((Sigh!))

I'm fine at work. I can do my job without talking to him or acting like we're friends. It's not my problem if he can't.

Greg followed me home to pick up some weed I owe him for agreeing to help me move this weekend. When we got to my place, the weed was gone. My mom, did something with it! Ughhhh... She was helping me pack today, and I left before her, so she must've found it. Just fucking great. I'm definitely going to have to have an interesting phone conversation with my mom tomorrow. Ughh... And now I have nothing to offer Greg as payment for helping me. But he's a sweetheart so he said he'll still help. He ended up hanging out for about an hour and talking with me about the Brandon situation. Apparently they talked on the phone the whole way to my place. Brandon said he really wants to talk to me and "work things out". But I told Greg how I feel. That is, everything I wrote above. And he said he completely understands, and that everything I said is justifiable. Apparently, Brandon doesn't think he said anything mean to me. He said something like,
"What, I didn't cheat on her or do anything bad! I've had my heart broken way worse by girls who have cheated on me blabla..."
Of course, but this isn't about him, or his feelings. It's about me and my feelings. You can't compare his past breakups to this one! I told all this to Greg, and he agreed.
He still thinks we should talk though. But I told him, the bottom line is, there's nothing Brandon can say, no answers he can give me, whether truthful or not, that will make me feel better. I'd rather just...not talk to him at all. Anything he says, is only gonna make the pain cut deeper, and last longer. I'm done. Done. Done. Done.
And again, the only reason he even cares, is because something in his life that was once easy, is now complicated. He's not worried about me! He's not concerned about my well being! He's worried about himself. Fuck him. Fuck his self-interests.
I gave him everything. Everything I had. Everything I would have wanted, and more. And he just said...no.
I don't want it.
It's not good enough.
You're not pretty enough.
And he threw it all back in my face. That is how I feel. And I just...cannot reconcile with someone who makes me feel that way.
It's the worst feeling. To give everything you have, and it not be enough. To love, with abandon, so wholly, so completely, despite everything, and...just be...cast aside.

As for the other things, i.e. taking a class, focusing on my career. I'm 3 steps ahead of you guys. I've updated my resume, and sent it out to a few people I know in the industry I wanna work in. And I've started taking piano lessons again. So...I'm doing everything I can so keep myself together. Piano is a really good outlet for my emotions. And I'm just hoping, so hard, that I'll find a job, and soon, and that I can get the hell out of the bar, and away from Brandon for good.