Trust Bashed? (continued from 'Why Did It?')

And now I know why I had that feeling it would turn into a one-night stand. I feel like someone just took the little trust I had left in males and beat the fuck out of it with an iron frying pan...

I was walking through the grocery store, minding my own business, wishing the incredible pain in my neck would go away and... I saw him. My gut impulse was to jump behind something to hide but I kept walking. The longer I looked... the more I noticed. The insanely large bag of dog food in his cart, you know, the one that resembles the size of a small to medium sized child. And it hit me... why would a soon-to-deploy soldier need so much dog food? And what's more... why would a man who doesn't have the Great Dane he dreams of having some day need it?

I instantly began to feel sick. I see him leaning over his cart to speak with someone in front of it. I peek around the aisle-end to see... her. Young, pretty, thin. I step up my pace to an extremely fast walk. If I were at the lake I'd resemeble one of those old women walking so fast her arms would look like they were reaching for the sky in an attempt to walk faster. I put my hand to the side of my face in an effort to hide. Why the fuck am I hiding??

I've done nothing wrong. I told him I didn't want to have sex. I have a very simple 'no involved men' rule. So not only did the events of last night occur despite my every hope that they not. I'm stuck in the grocery storee with a piece of shit guy who chose me to help him cheat.

Mankind is at an all-time new low. And worse, I think I let them. Now I will probably take on double the amount of cynicism and criticism when talking to new men. That way I will be treated even more like I'm a crazy bitch... just for trying to protect myself from this.

Had I been thinking, I would have walked up and said 'hello'. I should have made him uncomfortable. I should have ruined his entire world. Afterall, he is the stupid fuck that can't respect either of us enough or manage enough self-control to keep it in his pants. I'm tempted to text him... or call him. I don't know what I'd say. He has all the control. I should have stolen it in the middle of Wal-Mart.

Why do I allow them to bash my little remaining trust like this?