Thursday, September 30, 2010

what's thursday without a little crazy?

i . am. annoyed.

no, that’s not quite right. i’m flat out fucking pissed off.

this whole breaking up thing…i thought once you did it you were DONE with it. turns out: not so much.

jaysus fucking chryst on toast. i mean REALLY? do i have to keep arguing and battling even after i pulled the plug?

saturday was the break up talk. sunday he decided he needed to stop by my house (DRUNK) to drop off the portable dvd cord that he had for some unknown reason (i can’t break up with him becky, like, all my cd’s are in his truck…dane cook anyone?).

so. sunday. thought he got the point. DONE. over. out. moving on.

last night i got a text asking how the kids and i were and if he could stop by because he found a receipt and he didn’t know what it was for.

-sigh-

ARE YOU KIDDING ME? a receipt? and you can’t read it? are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?

whatever. i found a few more of his things in my room that needed returned anyway, so might as well get it over with.

so. after 8 (when little spawn goes to bed) he texts me to TELL me he’s on his way over. not to ask, not to see if it’s ok. to TELL me he’s on his way. FUCKING FUCK. THIS IS MY FUCKING HOUSE, MY RULES. YOU FUCKING CHECK FIRST.

so he comes over. and i let him into the kitchen and hand him his stuff. and he’s all…you didn’t hug me. and i’m all…didn’t know i was supposed to.

oh…can we talk for a minute? you know…as friends?

-sigh-

where’s my inner bitch when i need her?

FINE. a few minutes.

and then i hear about all the big changes he’s making in his life and how much has changed and how much he’s improved and pulled things together. he has an offer for more work hours, he’s working out, bought a bike and rides every day, bought a dog…on and on. ummm…it’s been THREE FUCKING DAYS since i last saw him. and he was smashing drunk then. so…you know…when did all these fucking amazing changes happen exactly? and this is supposed to make me come rushing back to him? let’s see…where does that one fall…i think that falls into the FUCK NO category.

and he wants to hear about what i’m doing and what changes i’m making and where i’m going in life. umm…again…THREE FUCKING DAYS. work and kids. and grocery shopping. that’s all that’s happened. so. quit fucking pushing me and expecting all the same shit that i ended things over. i’m not going to fucking magically heal over night. i’m not going to suddenly just be better. there’s no fucking magic switch to flip and have life be right again. and i’m just pissed off and tired of the bullshit and the expectations and crap. then he wants to talk in private in the kitchen (oldest spawn was still up and in the living room).

umm…what big private thing do we need to talk about? insert here the whole drama of how we’re not really broken up. all couples have arguments and just need a little cooling off time.

THIS ISN’T FUCKING COOLING OFF TIME. it’s over. done. STICK A GOD DAMN FORK IN IT. but i just need to keep him around, in a back corner, just a little space, he can stay at his house and we’ll just text. he’ll just stay quiet. he’ll just…

WHAT DON’T YOU FUCKING GET? no. i will not keep you in a back corner or in a little space. this isn’t some fucking waiting game. this isn’t some little bump. THIS IS ME BEING DONE. you know that whole thing when i called it quits about you not listening to me? THIS IS WHAT I MEANT. i’m fucking DONE. i’m tired of arguing, discussing, having to defend my every decision.

and around and around it went. i finally just told him to leave. which turned into a 5 minute process of him saying goodbye and reminding me he’ll still be there and he still loves me and JUST FUCKING LEAVE ALREADY. and he finally gets out the door, i take a deep breath, and *knock knock* oh…by the way, here’s the receipt….it’s for the fucking lamp that YOU BOUGHT. it says right on it. LAMP. from the store he bought it at. are you fucking kidding me? this was the whole point of coming over? GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE. so he leaves. deep breath *knock knock* just wanted to tell me he loves me. GET. THE. FUCK. OUT. at which point i closed and locked the door in his face.

WHAT PART OF _OVER_ IS SO FUCKING HARD TO UNDERSTAND.

then the texts start:

“do u know u gave me a hope to keep going in my life because my life is u? i love you.”
“and i will waiting u until last day in my live.”
“and i bromise u i will naver cheating u until u come back to me. and i will naver looking to any gairil. i love you.”

and still today:
“do u think today its butafull…i think every day it will be like that when u smail. i love you”

(spellings left the way they came in because i’m a cold hearted bitch)

and i know…awwww…he loves me and he’s willing to wait for me and he’s so dedicated. NO. he fucking refuses to listen to what i want/need and thinks he knows better. IT’S FUCKING OVER. i’m done. i’m out. i’m not going back. i can’t keep doing the arguing and the defending every single thing i feel and say. i can’t keep feeling bad for FEELING. i can’t keep sitting under the pressure and expectation to just be better. i can’t keep doing this whole circle. i want to rip my fucking hair out thinking about it. instant migraine thinking of the around and around arguments. sheer stress thinking of the pressure to be better for someone else and feeling bad for falling apart different days and for taking my own sweet damn time to go through this whole process. just even typing about it is lighting me up…just want to punch a raccoon (they already have black eyes, you’ll never be able to tell).

JUST FUCKING LISTEN TO ME:

OVER. no more. done. don’t stop by with some lame excuse. don’t call. don’t text. don’t keep trying to pressure or guilt me into something i don’t want and isn’t healthy for me. BACK. THE. FUCK. OFF. i feel like i’m being backed into a fucking corner and it isn’t going to be pretty when i have to fight my way out.

so. that’s the vent for today. back to your regularly scheduled thursday now…

3 comments:

  1. I shouldn't laugh at those texts... but I did. A lot. Hell awaits me. ;) I also laughed at the receipt excuse.

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  2. i know...right? WORST. EXCUSE. EVER.

    and while i didn't quite reach the laughing point, much eye rolling was done at the texts...and several sailor-ific combination of words

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  3. UPDATE: and the texts just keep on coming:

    last night: i'm going to sleep.goodnight my life..i miss u alot. (sent TWICE because once is never enough)

    this morning: good morning..keep smail. because when u smail out life it will be great. i love you alot. (again, sent TWICE.)

    -sigh- it's too much energy to keep being pissed off. but i can't believe he won't take a hint. fuck. not even a hint. me flat out saying it's over. i'm not hinting at a damn thing. i've said it as clearly as i can. oh...and ps: if you were wondering what an alot is, here you go: hyperbole and a half explains it best. enjoy the creative genius of Allie Brosch: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/04/alot-is-better-than-you-at-everything.html

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