Fuck This Shit!!

break ups fucking suck!! almost 5yrs! 5 damn years that we’re on a constant downward spiral!! why the hell am i missing her so much?? people ask what the hell did i do as a fucking housewife? ya know that’s what i couldn’t stand the most! being asked what i did all day. it was embarrassing to say that i was this fucking maid bitch!! even though deep down i knew it wasn’t for me. i just wanted us to work. there wasn’t any reason why we shouldn’t. she was smart, had a great kid. we had everything any other bitch could have hoped for..but i wasn’t happy. and neither was she. no matter how many times she’d try and convince me that she was.

i knew. i knew things were different. for one thing…we used to fuck. we used to fuck, make love, smile, whisper, touch. that stopped, at some point. i’ll say it was around the first argument. that first argument she had said that she had other options. and let’s just say that i hadn’t trusted her since those words.

i felt like shit. i’m about to fucking cry right now thinking about it. remembering how that made me feel that day.

i’m so fucking replaceable..shouldda been my first clue, right? i guess i was fooled. her good looks, sweet voice, the fact that she knew what a book was, knew how to use one, her great taste in music. and the first night we had sex…how amazing it was. god her touch almost made me fucking cry!! fuck buddies don’t fuck like that!??!

so we stayed in this weird unspoken relationship thing for a few months. until one night, we were drinking tea on the balcony of her apartment. talking about love and how scary it is and how so many people toss that damn word around. low and be fucking hold there’s a damn heart shaped cloud in the fucking sky right in front of us. like some kind of fucking sign!!

LMAO!! i wanted to giggle and hide at the same fucking time. Noooo!!! stupid cloud!!

she said i love you to me by christmas while i was decorating the tree with her son. she seemed to like how i was with her kid. i’d helped him before try to understand the greater than/less than math homework. ya know? with the alligator mouth…his teacher didn’t teach him the alligator trick. but he caught on once i told him that. i remember my ex smiling so big because i could relate to her son and be patient with him. i did it a few other times with his writing fiction. he’s such a brain, like his mama. i got him to write stories. science fiction of course…we didn’t care. as long as he was writing.

we used to have these moments of just looking at each other. when one asks, “what?” th

e other would reply, “nothing.” and then we’d smile. things like that started to fade.

i used to joke with her about “the fluffy.” everything being so new in relationship. like you’re floating on air. i told her that’s why i don’t like relationships because the fluffy eventually fades and suddenly that cloud you were floating on fades away.

i want something doesn’t fade. doesn’t thin out. call me naive. call me unrealistic. i want hard times with good times so amazing you wonder how you made it that far. instead of dwelling on the bad times. i’ll admit to being an asshole..i’ll admit to our clouds turning black and rainy. i’ll admit to being fucking pushed to many bad breaking points. so much so that i started thinking i was fucking crazy!!

and yet…i’ve n

ever thought that way before. never had any problems like we’ve had before. but i’ve also dated anybody. male or female who tried to tell me what to do, how to act, how to fucking hide!! and what all i need to put up with while she can roam flirt and hide whoever she wants.

needless to say, i have a shitload of trust issues any new lover wouldn’t be able to comprehend. let alone deal with me.

so, with my defense on the high. shit that’s being said about me. and the amazing shit i’ve found out AFTER we’ve broken up that was going on while we were together. my single life and dating again looks hopeless! hopeless!! i’m shoving away anyone that shows any fucking interest in me. and yet…flirting at the same time. like i wanna be the one who flirts. i wanna be the one who is control this time.

i joke about

starting to date femmes. but i’m only half kidding. i don’t get attached to femmes. so, that’s an automatic pro for me. but, i don’t like being the heart breaker..and with femmes…i was. i was an asshole to them. and a big part of me wants to be the one who… i don’t fucking know open that damn door! takes a check from the waiter! shit! buy her a present without some stupid comment like, “you’re feeling butchie today.”

y’all know we lived in her homophobic parent’s house, right? religious right, conservative, homophobic parents. that woman that was her mother kept telling me to treat the place like it was my own. but, i couldn’t kiss or hold hands in what was suppose to be my home while she came down. if it were MY home, my parents or anyone elses parents couldn’t tell me what to do or say!

we had so much stress in our relationship. it’s no wonder we broke up so many damn times.

then the options thing came up again. i can’t believe she actually thought i had cheated on her!! come to find out she’s had dating sites for awhile. and talking on the phone with women at all hours of the night. and getting flirtatious emails.

we took her brother out to eat one time at Twin Peaks. Great food. great service. to me an

yway. she barely even looked at my ex. that was different. usually anywhere we go, she got flirted with and i was shit in a chair. she’d soak it up and laugh at me for noticing. say things like i was being silly. leave them a real nice tip. but, when the table were turned…that tip wasn’t so awesome for the poor girl. and my ex’s usually friendly, chatty, flirty, self was gone.

when we left she was upset and bitching the whole way home. she had knocked down my little ego boost with the waiter was simply scared of the big butch dyke. so she clung to

me.

gee. thanks,…hun. ouch! even if that were the case. which it usually is. i know this, i’ve dealt with it before in my younger butch wanna be days. how often does it happen to me?!?! a waitress being so friendly to me?!?! why be such a brat about it? why couldn’t ya just be happy that someone thought your bitch was cute?!?! why not say something like “for a straight girl that waitress has got good taste.” i don’t know. why knock me down like that?!?!

that wasn’t the only time she had knocked me down. a few years back my old job had called me to come work for them again. the other dispatcher was practically begging me to come back. if that’s not an ego boost and a huge pat on the fucking back i don’t know what it!?!? how many jobs do that? how many people have that happen to them?!?!!?

i had to turn them down because at the time, my staying at home seemed to be working for our little family. i thought. but, she got pissed about that. instead of wow that’s cool. she said, “but this is working. you staying at home. you go back to work. we’re over.”

that stabbed me i don’t know how many times. and should have been another sign. yea..we got in a fight. and her mother was there. ugh! not that crazy mother of hers! of course i’m crying. my ex goes for a drive to who the fuck knows where. and her mother has me come and talk to her in the living room. pushing a xanax on me so i can get to sleep that night. i refuse, and make some tea instead. and there’s her mother telling me to do whatever makes me happy. i should have done it, then. if only i didn’t remember what my therapist told me. communicate. tell her what’s making me angry about her response. couldn’t you just be happy that that sort of thing actually happened to me?!?!

but, i did that. and she blew it off. as she usually did when it came to these cool things happening to me. because…not a lot of it does. and i don’t ever expect it to. but, when Bp had rejected her twice..i was one the few people who told her to try again like her dad had already told her to. singing karoke..i encouraged to go all the time. to the point where i felt i almost forgot how to dance. because i dance when i go out. or shoot pool. i couldn’t tell you the 8 ball from the 2 now, i’m sure. i haven’t been good at pool since Cornbreads closed down. and even then i wasn’t all that awesome. i’ve really only been good playing with my mom at the Sunset bar on Hammerly. but i loved playing!!

now i feel like all my shit talking at the table would be pathetic because…well..my balls would go everywhere except for the hole!!

so, i look back on these few moments in our history. and i’m like what the fuck am i missing her for!?!? her touch…fuck that’s a fantasy in itself. she didn’t touch me but once a damn month. twice the month we broke up. once before the break up and another time after we agreed to breaking up.

and after the break up…all the shit she accused me of. cheating? lying? using her for her money? calling me a slut and a whore. fuck i sit here wondering why the fuck didn’t i do those things! i’d have a place lined up to live when she scared me out of the house! and money to boot! yea, a woman who uses you for your money doesn’t clip coupons and go through the sales paper to try to SAVE you money! and she doesn’t suggest you set up a savings account to save for better things, like family vacations. or parts for the car. or paying the house off early!! or shit, when she told you to go ahead and buy that 500 dollar camera for you to start your photography business!!! you buy that 50 dollar suit from JCPenny’s. I’ll buy my dress at Ross, or th

e thrift store! get those 40 buck dress shoes while mine are under 20!!

my idea of a shopping spree as her housewife was spending all day at the Goodwill thrift store. just to find a few cute clothes!! where as most women! most women shop at the fucking department stores you asshole!

most women! most women want that expensive steak dinner and a bottle of wine to go with the limo ride! i get fucking fidgety like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman wearing the expensive jewelry and red dress!! i mean, thanks. but it wasn’t necessary!! and even worse when you say things like i used you for your damn money!!

i’m a beer or whiskey girl. she used to brag about it. that i was such a rare breed of woman who can hold her alcohol and shop cheap. and live cheap. so it boggles my mind! BOGGLES MY FUCKING MIND!! to accuse me of such a damn thing. i don’t even think slut or whore hurt near as much as that dagger.

i behave like a slut, dress like a whore…but those days of actually getting that fucked up and getting laid by any random person are over. they’ve been over since i came out the second time!! i’ve tried…but i back out…because i know that’s not me.

so, the housebitch thang aint for me…i knew that. i knew that the moment i turned in my two weeks notice. i knew it when i made the damn suggestion. fuck i wanted her. i wanted her love. i enjoyed how we loved each other. when we did love each other. i wanted everything possible to find some way to bring that back.

we couldn’t trust each other anymore. we couldn’t be happy with each other anymore. we didn’t even know who we were as an individual. and that happens to an extent in a relationship that has gone for so many years. but, it was like i couldn’t make a single decision on my own. when i did, if it were the wrong one…i wouldn’t hear the end of it. even something as simple as picking out a damn picture to hang on the fucking wall of what was suppose to be OUR home.

there’s my fucking rant about this fucking shit. i’m fucking done. the weekend is on it’s way and riding my damn bike to store to buy a bottle of wine and read a fucking book in silence!

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