I am not the first, nor the last of this type of female. Let’s face it. .we’re all the same. Don’t think so? Do you hope for the best and then believe it? Do you make up scenarios in your head about how it will be and then you are sorely disappointed when it doesn’t pan out? Do you make up whole incidents about one phone call received by your boyfriend and then at the end of his conversation (which you probably eavesdropped on) you’re so pissed at him you dream of being single again, and then let the poor b------ go to bed wondering what he did? Or maybe you don’t get this far ahead in thinking, maybe your thinking that the fact he side-skirted the call like it didn’t happen and then doesn’t bother to ask you “what’s wrong” even though you’re stomping through the house cleaning everything in sight not even bothering to look at him, which only confirms the fact that he’s doing something he shouldn’t. And now. . . you vow to hate whatever song was his ring tone for this specific girl (Or to make it easy all songs with the lyrics: I love you, I’ve loved you all along” for the simple fact that you’re not quite sure who sings it and you want to be thorough in your vendetta)
There was a slight pause in my transgression: I spoke to Jolee. . . it was not good. She says I should ask him about the call . . .but I won’t. Cause then I would inadvertently admit to eavesdropping and giving a crap (or to be politically correct, jealous . . . but that’s an ugly word, so we won’t use it). The part I like was when she said that I had every right to feel this way because it’s been done to me before (wave small victory flag here). The part that bothers me is that I’m going to drag this feeling of dread into every single relationship wondering when it’s going to rear its ugly head. I was truthful when I said that if he’d got it over with (the relationship) it would be better. That’s like fast-forwarding 2 months worth of scenarios wondering what he’s doing, were he’s at, did he really go to work, is he calling her, did he really not ever get over her??? See, easy as pie, no fighting no hurt feelings and I get to keep my pride. I actually love me when I’m like this. I am the fearless female.
Now tomorrow, will be different. I’ll be stupid again, and clingy, and I’ll believe anything he tells me, and when I am fearless again, I’ll look back and want to barf. I don’t want to barf, that’s why they make beer.
Is being with someone really worth it? If I could go back and apologize to all the people I made feel barfy because they had to listen to me go on and on about this great guy, I would. Uh. . . sorry Jolee, Anita, Mom, Lady who checked me out at Wal-Mart, there are others, but oh well. Every relationship is great in the beginning, and that’s just it. I told Chad that that was my biggest fear was forgetting in the heat of the moment (anger not sex) why you fell in love with someone in the first place. I’m going to use a “Lane excuse”: I didn’t forget, it’s just hard to remember sometimes.”
This is the second time I’ve hated being a girl today. The first time was because I couldn’t change my own flat. Why is it required in the chemical make-up of a woman to be bi-polar, bitchy and finicky, and not separately but all at the same time?
Is this fun for God? He sends men down from heaven normal and females send them back up all kinds of f****d up. I could say that this was a two-way street, but I don’t think I have enough hard-drive to get started on that subject.
I don’t want to be stupid this time, I want to beat him to the punch. I’ve already played out scenes where he’s laughing at me with all his buddies, because some “old lady” has the hots for him and how I’m so desperate and they’ve placed bets on how far this will go, and in the end he’ll end up with the house. My paranoia is astounding. . . I know. Me, being female, you (the reader) should know that just writing this last paragraph pissed me off all over again. And in all my pissed-offedness I have room for more anger to seep in, just knowing that he’s sleeping peacefully in my bed, on clean sheets, completely unaware of the Armageddon marching through my head. .is wrong, all wrong.
