Posts Tagged 'Stupid Boys'


I wasn’t going to write about this, but it just keeps nagging and nagging at me.

As some of you probably noticed, the Fireman left a couple of comments here last week.  Up until that day, we hadn’t spoken, texted, messaged, or anything else since July.  I’m not sure why he felt compelled to leave a comment rather than contacting me directly, but there you go.

I ended up texting him a little while later, and just kind of saying hi.  We texted back and forth most of the night, and it was nice, but also weird.  You see, when I read the comments, I decided to go see if he’d written anything lately.  While I checked every day right after the breakup, it had been a while since I’d looked.  As I read, I felt a)nervous, b)upset, and c)pissed off.  Apparently, he and his son’s mother hooked up a few times after we broke up. 

This woman…this person…this low-down ho-bag, basically abandoned their son when he was younger to chase after an older guy who had lots of money.  She eventually came back around and, according to FM, she’s a great mother.  She and her lawyer boyfriend just bought a house this summer.  Yet, they hooked up, he told me three times.  “It just happened.”  (This is the dumbest fucking excuse ever invented.)  No, he doesn’t owe me explanations anymore, but damn.  I would think that as a person who was cheated on by her, he may have a little more restraint in helping her cheat on her current boyfriend.  Wouldn’t you?  I always said that he was the best man I ever knew, the most upstanding person.  Now I’m wondering if any man is? 

Also, I’m wondering if they “just” hooked up before we broke up.  There was certainly SOMEthing that happened to make things change so fast.  Call it intuition or whatever you want to, but I know there was something that occurred, whether it was her manipulating or not.  One night, right after things started to get weird, I told him my fears about his ex and how she manipulated him.  I also told him about a dream I’d had about a woman getting in between us.  When I described the woman to him, he told me I’d just described his ex (I didn’t know what she looked like), and got a weird look on his face.  This is all just weird coincidence, I suppose, but it’s niggling and worming around and won’t let up.  Of course, I can’t ask him this, because what does it matter now?  We broke up 3 months ago, for crying out loud.  Still, I want to ask.  I know I won’t.

I’m also bothered by the fact that he told me he’d been reading the blog up until I wrote about him being a liar and a pussy (same thing in my book), which was about a month after the break up.  That was a long time to be clued in to everything I was feeling with me not having a clue what was going on with him.  Doesn’t seem fair, does it?  Guess that’s what I get for writing out in the open. 

Bekki left an angry comment on his page, which embarassed me a little.  I knew that it wouldn’t make a difference to him.  When we broke up, he wasn’t sad.  He may have felt bad for hurting me, and guilty for whatever it was that caused it, but not sad for losing me.  Why does this matter to me now?  I’m not sure.  I wish it didn’t, and I tried to pretend that it didn’t for over a week now.  It bothers me that he acts so nonchalant about sleeping with his ex who has a live-in boyfriend.

I want to be okay with this, and not care what he’s doing or has done or will do.  Boys are so fucking stupid.

Lying Liars and the Lies They Tell

I think that will be the title for my memoir.  The one thing that can make me the angriest is a liar.  I was lied to for so long during my marriage that I do not tolerate it well at all.  Not that anyone should tolerate it, but if I find out someone has lied to me, I get so…fucking…mad.  Like, wishing I had a punching bag kind of mad.

There is a difference between omitting information to not hurt someone and lying when you are asked a question right out.  I don’t understand the point of lying, for any reason.  To flat out lie to someone is such horseshit, man.  GAH, I am so riled up.  I had a super weekend, and then I came home and (probably my own fault for being curious) saw something that made it clear that I’d been lied to.  And for what purpose?  To not hurt my feelings, I’m sure would be the answer.  I call bullshit.  Lying – to me – equals being a pussy.  You’re a pussy!  Don’t lie to spare yourself the discomfort of dealing with whatever the outcome might be.  You make yourself look like…well, a pussy, and it makes it seem as though you think I’m not smart enough to see the truth.  If that is so, you grossly underestimate me, and that makes you the fool.

Riddle Me This

Last night, I was feeling pretty okay by the time the boys went to bed. I had talked to my besties, they had had good Christmases. In the last few days in talking to both Nova and Honeywine, we have wondered why it is that WE are so very awesome and yet, unlucky in love.

The conclusion we came to was that we must need to be conceited jerks in order to let our awesomeness be known. I mean, it certainly seems that those are the types of people who get what they want from others. Am I right?

Definitely, I am a great person. Fun to be around, loving, and kind. I am loyal to a fault, usually my own fault (heh), and am great at knowing what another person needs, the right words to say, the appropriate action to take. Yet, for all of this, I’ve been taken advantage of again and again. By both women and men, yet it’s easier for me to let go of the women who hurt me.

As I was getting ready to turn in for the night, only waiting to hear about Honeywine’s day and let her know I was okay (there was an emergency call to her after the Douche incident last night), when I got a text from The Crazy One. I had thought that I’d wish him a Merry Christmas yesterday morning, but had forgotten. I asked him how his Christmas was, and if his son had a good day. What I got back stunned me. If you remember, when we broke up, I told him he was making a huge mistake and would never know anyone as good as me again. Turns out, I was right. Imagine that!

You know, he lamented about how he was so stupid, how he really fucked everything up, how his life has been crap without me in it. How I was the only person he’d ever met who was so optimistic, he couldn’t help but feel that way, too. How he misses me all the time, and is reminded of me and all the fun we had by all kinds of things. You don’t say. At first, my ego felt good that he finally understood it. I haven’t been thinking about him. I haven’t missed him in a long time. I let him go a long time ago.

Then, I got pissed off. Why is it that people can’t see what’s right in front of their faces? Lord Swank, I’m looking at YOU. Right now I just want to shake you and yell that you are fucking this up! I deserve so much more than what I’m getting right now. Both Douche and now The Crazy One have realized that they screwed up, that they were stupid, and that I am worth having around.

I am a great partner to have. I am always there for you, I’m loyal (it’s a curse, I think), I’m honest, I’m fun, I even like “guy” movies. I’m flippin’ amazing in bed. I’m a nice girl who can get along with anyone…your family, your friends, your boss at work. I can fit in anywhere, I’m adaptable. I can be just as comfortable in a fancy dress with snooty folks as I am in jeans in a trailer park. Apparently my problem is that I don’t play games with guys. If I feel something for you, I tell you. If I’m mad at you, I tell you. I don’t bullshit around. There’s no guessing with me. It’s all laid out on the table, and I have no poker face.

So, I’m left shaking my head, wondering why no one ever sees these things until it’s too late.

Cast of Characters

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