War… it never changes.
But the dynamics of a friendship I share with ex-boyfriends always do.
I think it’s hilarious (I’m in the process of getting a new anti-depressant, so everything is basically hilarious to me, I can’t stop laughing).
So, let me name two of my exes because they probably won’t be reading this, and if they are, then speak up, I’m curious to know why you’re reading this blog I started after I left both of you.
So Jesse was one boyfriend. He had a job, a house, a car, but he was an over-privileged sack of shit. He was educated, but he had the privilege of knowing what he wanted to do since he was 10 (a computer programmer) and had money from after his grandma died to go to Brown Technical College (which is, as I believe, a for-profit school?). So he was intelligent. I thought that was enough for me.
But things began to unravel. He didn’t have a savings account when I met him. He spent all the money he made (which was a lot) on junk. He paid his mom shit for the house he was renting (their old house, when his parents moved, he rented from them, and paid $300 a month. That is rude and his parents had to pick up his slack.) And, in spite of him having a job, he consistently was complaining and whenever I told him to look for a new one, he decided to play it safe. At some point, I tallied it up to him having no ambition. We were together for about 2 years. He talked about getting married, never proposed, never wanted better for himself, never seemed more than just “content” that I was around.
When we first began dating, I was his first girlfriend. I was 17 and he was 23. I remember one instance where he cancelled plans on me and explained we had been spending, “Too much time together,” and the ass bag literally tallied up the amount of hours he spent at home, at work, by himself, with me, and SLEEPING. That hurt my feelings. That made me feel like I didn’t matter. But instead of leaving him, which I should’ve just done because that was a low blow, I stayed. And a couple of hours after he sent me the E-mail cancelling our plans, I get a call saying, “I miss you, I wish we would’ve hung out.” Asshole, you literally cancelled on me so you could have time for yourself. Don’t puppy-dog eye me like it was my choice. And of all the nights, we had more planned than just sitting around watching movies and touching each others titties. But, that always stuck with me, and it made me never feel comfortable to ask for anybody to be there for me again.
To move on, I am a pretty huge shit bag and I cheated on him. I told him he had no ambition and that I don’t think he liked me, and that our age differences were probably too big, and I didn’t feel I could talk to him. But we stayed friends, because he didn’t want to just drop me, even though that had been my tactic up until that point, and I watched him struggle through several relationships. It was kind of sad.
Then he began dating this girl who was best friends with one of C’s best friend’s girlfriends’ (Right?) and after 2 weeks, he told me that she wanted to move in with him. He was uncomfortable with that. So, as I would for any friend, I explained to her she was making him uncomfortable. So this bitch lost her shit and essentially banned him from speaking to me. And he listened to her, cancelled a few of our friendsly hang outs and I never hear from him again.
So, 2014, I get this Tweet direct message:
You married yet?
10:21 PM – 10 Nov 14
I later find out, he got married that October (2015) to the clingy ass girl he didn’t want to have move into his house. After years of no contact… at least 4 years of no contact. Was he trying to brag to me? What was his point? Not an appropriate conversation starter for somebody who you said you wanted to be friends with, then blocked after your girlfriend of 2 weeks told you to block me. I know I’m a shitty person, but you trying to brag that she’s the one? You didn’t even really like her. That was quite rude of him, because it gave me anxiety. I snooped around his FB. They’re gross. People I don’t like are inherently gross, and they were gross.
What’s worse is that it happened right before my birthday too (the 22nd of November) so it was a sour note to an otherwise perfect 2014. (Just graduated, got my job, got engaged, happiness abound). Because after bitching to my mom, who I keep realizing I shouldn’t because she doesn’t seem to give a shit, about them being married and him contacting me, she said, “I liked him. He had money.” It’s true. It just made me wish I milked him for a little more and gold dug my way into some real treasures. But he always preferred to buy himself stuff, instead of me.
So, I was like, “Fine, I’ll never be friends with an ex-again. That was awful.”
So, now we have John. I cheated on Jesse with John, then I began dating John. Fun. I would not recommend being an absolute shit bag like that. I think I missed the part about “sleeping around” and having “friends with benefits” where I shouldn’t be in a COMMITTED RELATIONSHIP WHILE DOING THAT. So, unlike a bunch of my awesome whore friends out there now doing their thing, I had to always bring love and romance into this bullshit. I’m so happy I don’t have to deal with it anymore.
(Trigger warning: physical abuse to your favorite blogger) The end of this is basically that, I went to India after dating John for a couple of years, came back, realized that literally everything had changed, and then slept with Andrew almost as soon as I got back to the states. (Which, he agreed on, and which proves I am shit at being a sleep-around whore.) John loses it. Rips up all my posters, papers, smashes my souvenirs from India, trashes my clothes. And my dumbass is living with him, like a dumbass. I told him I needed a few days to get my things to leave. Before that could happen, however, I remember speaking to my grandma on Facebook, laughing about something and John thought I was laughing at him, so we got into a huge fight. He told me to slap him, and I kept weeping, “No, I don’t want to slap you what the fuck is wrong with you?” and for 5 minutes he kept telling me to slap him, so I finally did. Then he punches me in the face, and when I fall over, he axe chops me in the fucking back, and when I start calling for help, he throws my phone across the room and chokes me until I can’t breathe. I pretend to pass out, and in an instant I grab my keys and run out of the apartment, but not before having to fight him off again. I literally fucking kick him in the balls, he falls down, and is trying to get to me, I stab him in the dick area with my keys and he finally lets go and I run out the apartment screaming, “call the fucking cops you assholes,” because they didn’t fucking do it. So, in the middle of February, with no shoes, no ID, none of my money or stuff, I end up driving to Andrew’s, his giant scary younger brother (like, a bodyguard with the heart of an angel, lol) and him come back with me to get stuff. I’m still in college. We get there, John tries to gain their sympathy because he doesn’t remember what he did. Maybe he didn’t, I don’t give a shit to know. I grab my shit and then spend the next painful semester trying to work on my shit, telling my professors, “Sorry, I almost got murdered, so I didn’t do my homework,” and they were like, “Jesus Christ, what the fuck? Don’t worry about the goddamned homework, are you safe?” (End of trigger warning)
John gets Guillain-Barré Syndrome, moves to Texas where his family is, leaves me the cat, and is effectively out of my life, save for Facebook where I had to, on occasion, ask for money to support the cat he left behind.
But recently he got a new girlfriend, closer to his age, looks just like she could be his cousin (it’s weird), and we were on friendlier terms. I don’t call myself friendly or nice, but Andrew said it was only human of me to care for the lives of everybody because empathy flows through me like a torrential faucet that cannot be sealed off or contained. I was joking around with John, we had been on friendsly terms, and I called him a “capitalist pig dog” and said “love is a bourgeois ploy” and asked if he was 12 years old, because every day since announcing his new girlfriend, even the FB filters couldn’t hide all the lovey dovey stuff. Apparently they had been together longer than the FB announcement by several months, but because FB wasn’t doing it’s job, I had to see it and it was cute at first until the 300th post. And so he blocked me. I also made fun of him playing Second Life, which was apparently a huge part of his relationship with this new lady.
Well, he’ll never get to see Buddy again.
This is Buddy:
[and my left foot, which Buddy decided to lick, then gave me this face, as if I didn’t already know my foot was gross?]
So, I think right now I’m having a regret, that I can’t warn her that he could possibly snap should she do something similar to that, and may end up killing her. But she blocked me too, so one or both of them were in on it? It’s probably for the best. I don’t even know why we were friends in the end.
I apologized to him about what I did a few days ago, meaning it, realizing the impact of fucking cheating on somebody. This literally happened today. January 2016. With all the trust issues I have, you’d think that being trusted and wanting to trust would be priority? Apparently not, to my strange mind. That’s something that is wrong with me. That’s something that’s gotta change with me.
So, the message is clear: Don’t be friends with your exes. But if you can, I mean, go for it, it’s your life. And if you’re lucky, it’s not like the fucked up life that I live. The real one, not the one I imagine in my head before I go to sleep. [Way better than real life, although with my wedding coming up, nah.] I should probably have a conversation with Andrew. This blog has helped me communicate with him better, I think. Since I word barf everything, and can repeat it to him.
You’re all along for the ride. Enjoy.