Oh God, Not Again!

11:30 last night I was laying in bed, attemtpting to fall asleep.  I hear my phone beep.  Actually, it goes "whoa whoa whoa whoa...", a clip from Above the Clouds by Slightly Stoopid, and it's fucking awesome.  I rolled over, figuring my Drugstore Cowboy was hitting me up for a booty call.

IT WAS BUZZARD.

The infamous douchebag that I dated right after I split up with my ex and who fucked my head UP.  The "friend" that I haven't spoken to since the fourth of July, for reasons I am still unenlightened about.

Him:  "What are you up to, ho?"
Me:  "Um, work.  Life.  Partying.  And you?"
Him:  "The same.  I have a raging hard-on and I'm stroking it right now lol."
Me:  "Some things never change.  Where's [your girlfriend]?
Him:  "Lol I know."
Him:  "She's at home."
Him:  "I heard you had a train run on you on Halloween."
Me:  "What are you talking about?  There was no train."
Him:  "On you, dork."
Me:  "I know what you meant.  Just because I was with guys all night doesn't mean I fucked them all."
Me:  "Just one."
Him:  "Oh ok."
Him:  "So when are you gonna suck my cock like a good little whore?"
Me:  "Yeah I don't know about that."

It went on a little more; he told me he wanted to see how work was going and how I was doing.  Part of me is really fucking pissed that he had the nerve to contact me, and the other part of me is indifferent to it.  I don't want to fall back into the same cycle with him.  I don't want to start sleeping with him again.  He knows how to push all the right buttons.  But I've learned how he works over the years and have had time to sharpen my skills.  If I do decide to give in, it's not going to be easy for him.  I do not have the time nor the energy for his bullshit antics.  I refuse to be sucked into his sick little world of sex and mindfucking again.

So until I figure out if he really was just checking up on me or has ulterior motives, I will be struggling with my decision on how to react.

Fuck.