Pretending (A.K.A facebook ruins lives)
Posted by: Wouldn't you like to know on: November 29, 2009
- In: Exes| Life
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Up, up, and away
Am sitting in the lounge of UMBC’s library with ACA and a couple of her peeps from her nursing program. They have a test tomorrow and are studying. Me too. However, as is common with study groups, especially those that contain girls there is more chatting than staying on topic, but I will give it to them, they know their shizz. I worked through two logics games and then got bored. Realized talking about enlarged nipples and softened cervixes (sp?) was more interesting. Stalked Gravity’s facebook page and am starting to think my suspicions about him perhaps cheating on me were true.
Fucktard.
I don’t think he physically cheated on me, because he’s not the cutest kid in the world and he has the swagger of a turtle, and not one of those cool giant ones but rather the ones you find in the pet store living in a plastic bucket surrounded by their own filth. Yeah, I know I cheated on him, physically, and a lot, but that’s seriously the difference between us. I do what I do, and he just thinks about what he wants to do. I’m proud of myself. At least with me you always know what you’re getting or what you’re going to get. This may not make total sense but I think there’s more deceit in thinking about it and blatantly denying it than in doing it and never volunteering information. Don’t get me wrong, they’re both detestable, but what I’m trying to say here is there is no victim. At least not in our particular case. This is major for me, because I thought there was and it teetered between being me or him. It slightly teeters more in his direction at the moment.
I never led him to necessarily believe I was cheating on him, because my disposition with him never changed. I never made him feel insecure, unwanted, or that there were other people I’d rather be with. I kind of kept that to myself and put on a good front. I fulfilled my obligation in being in a relationship, which is basically the role of making the other person feel good about themselves. So, what do I want, a medal? Kind of. Of course, if anything would’ve worked out with anyone else, I would’ve promptly broke up with Gravity, but other than me having a “change of heart”, “falling out of love”, or just not being “that into him” there would be no definite blow to his ego. On the other hand, he surreptitiously harbored feelings for others, crassly made excuses for us not meeting, complained constantly about distance (Read: a 30 min drive, halfway. At worst, a little over an hour at full distance), while stingily rationing out his money on gifts and love in general; all of this worse than what I ever did, because it all basically hinted the end of an era.
Without any apparent explanation. I am a person who NEEDS closure. I need an explanation for just about everything, even if it’s just self-serving rationalization (Read: perhaps, that’s all this post is, but damn it, I’ll take it!). I don’t believe people just fall out of love, just aren’t that into you, and have changes of heart. It’s called “I’m insatiable / a whore, and would like to sleep with other people or as many people as possible before my vagina dries up or my penis falls off”, or ”you got fat / you let yourself go and I, being a shallow person, am no longer attracted to you. I want out”, or “I was using you for sex, money, status, (insert inane reason here), and now I’m over it. On to the next. Deuces sucker”. The list goes on, but whatever it is goes a lot deeper than an “I don’t know” or “sorry”. Love is everlasting, if it’s real, everything else isn’t love.
Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy. It does not boast. It is not proud.
That’s right.
I took it back to Corinthians.
Read up, kiddies.
Lately, I’ve been analyzing the demise of our relationship like crazy. Feeling bad. Awful really. Thinking I was such a bad person, that I deserved to feel this bad, because he was a “good guy”. I was a “bad girlfriend”. I “never gave us a chance”. I “always expected / wanted more from him”. I “got what I deserved”. Utter bullshit. The devil tells his lies well. I realize that that was what Gravity wanted me to believe. For about the last two years of our relationship, he cheated on me. He emotionally cheated on me, with every work event, European trip, bar, club, and perhaps trailer trash floozy on Facebook that came his way. He wanted more or at least something different but rather than standing up to me (Read: Being someone worthy of respect and honor) breaking up with me, and moving on, he stayed put. Sex was convenient and he didn’t have the balls, and unfortunately I had none to lend. Instead, he kept me a virtual secret at work, hung out with the boys and flirted with the girls. “They’re married”, he’d say. Really? Who the fuck cares! Acted like he was single and all the while flat out lied to me that he loved me, wanted to marry me, and that there was no one else.
I said I loved him, and I thought I did, but truth be told I’m a horrible liar, and like they say, you can lie to anyone you want other than yourself. I said I wanted to marry him, but truth be told I just wanted to get married. I never said anything about the last part … Not with a straight face at least. Seriously, never with a straight face. Like I said, I’m an atrocious liar. Even in my deceit I was upfront, a lot more upfront than him. Even my wickedness was wonderful. Okay, maybe not, but I’m repenting, profusely. It really is no fun, but after this little epiphany I’m hoping I can put that little relationship snafu behind me.
Me – 1,000,001. Gravity – 0.
GOD is good.
The Day After Black Friday
Posted by: Wouldn't you like to know on: November 28, 2009
- In: Life
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I made out much better. Sucks for her
T-day was uneventful. Decided not to do the family thing but rather wanted to be alone and get my thoughts straight. Have been thinking about a lot lately. A lot. So much so I don’t even care to go into it at the moment. It will make for a lovely New year’s Eve post though. Am scared shitless about the LSATs and am realizing I am in the eye of my quarter life crisis. People were pissed about me not making it to T-day din din, but aren’t they always about something anyway? Staying at home was fabulous. I ate curry, had cookies and milk, danced badly to the top 40’s, and applied to jobs that I was either under or over qualified for sans the familial drama, lies, and pretense. I was thankful. The next day of course was ‘Black Friday’. Since I’m practically waiting for my impending unemployment, it was probably not a good idea to even think about going but I couldn’t help myself. I don’t think I’ve ever really gone. Most likely because I was slaving away in retail and couldn’t get the day off.
Therefore this year was a bit of a novelty. MD was off as well, and for whatever reason something compelled me to spend time with her, perhaps the Holy Ghost, and the notion that I could get her to purchase a few things for me. So she caught me sneaking out through the garage, and before I knew it I was waiting in the car for her to wash her face and throw on some denim. She doesn’t call them jeans. She calls them denim, and that particular morning she was in a ‘denim mood’. MD had never been to Arundel Mills, so off we went. It was about 11 a.m. and not nearly as crowded as it would normally be on a weekend let alone what I expected it to be on ‘Black Friday’. The sales were, ”sales” but not sales. 20%, 30%, 40%, meh, but nothing to wake up at the crack of dawn for. Especially when the same bloody sales were running as early as Tuesday. I only saw one “sale” that was a sale, and that was Banana Republic, 50% off the entire store. Hello! Thank you. Unfortunately I’m really not that crazy about them, maybe if I was a 20 – 30-something Asian female or a 20 – 30 something homosexual Caucasian male, but being as I am, not so much. Everything else was a tease at best, especially BCBG. I don’t think they even had a sale. For shame BCBG! Trying to offload the same tired shizz you had during the Summer / Fall (Read: Neon colored, Cotton, Poplin, and Polyester blend halter and spaghetti strapped dresses with sequins and ill gotten silhouettes). At this rate you’re becoming no better than BEBE. Tsk, tsk, tsk. I guess the economy really is all sorts of messed up. My mother was unaffected however.
For clarification, my mother is the type of person who will invite you into her overly furnished home only to tell you how she struggling, living from paycheck to paycheck, wants to stop working, is a minimalist and … (wait there’s someone at the door, you’ll have to wait while she signs for some packages. It’s UPS, with deliveries from Cole Haan, Maggie Sottero, and Tiffany’s, don’t you know) Where were we? Ah, yes, something about cutting your coat to your measure and hers happens to be of finest Italian leather, it’s Coach, “it lasts forever!” Thus making any expense utterly justifiable.
This is the woman I went shopping with. Surprisingly things went well. I didn’t yell or scream at her and there was no awkward conversation on the ride from or to home. I realize that she is a ridiculously obnoxious shopper though. I can’t even describe it other than to say, if I weren’t her daughter I would’ve wanted to punch her … Hell, being her daughter I wanted to punch her, but that’s neither here nor there. She would ask poor understaffed and overworked associates for assistance, seeing clearly they were with another person, wait about 30 seconds (Read: literally 30 seconds. I counted) then groan about how she’d been waiting so long and when I say groan I mean yell. MD is by no means a quiet woman. Then when they were finally done and would come over to assist she would have a very perturbed tone with them as if she were freaking Queen Elizabeth, the first, of course (Read: the only one that ever really did anything). After all, she’s way up here and they’re way down there. Watching her carry on seriously embarrassed me but now I totally know where I get it from. It’s like looking into a mirror. A slightly grimey but ultra reflective mirror. It’s not perfect but it doesn’t have to be, because it’s beautiful. It’s not a game. It hurts to spend money. There will be casualties. Why should one have to wait to spend money? It’s Black Friday! If today’s not going to be busy, then when would be? It was ridiculous for any store to be understaffed. Alas, they were and someone has to pay. Working retail sucks. About 6 hours and $1,000 later we arrived home. I had some more of my delish curry, tried on my new coats, and took a nap. I love the holidays.
I live in the Wrong Country …
Posted by: Wouldn't you like to know on: November 20, 2009
Or I was born the wrong gender and orientation. I was drooling over the fashions on The Sartorialist, and I was about halfway down the page when I realized I had come across at least half a dozen painfully beautiful men. I’m a bit of a cynic so when I use the word “beautiful”, it is not to be taken lightly. I never see guys like this “on the street”. It’s just not fair.
