I hate being emo. It’s just not fun. But I gotta be honest, I’m really hurting today. To the point that I’m angry and I want to punch someone in the face.
I think it was just Saturday that I was talking about the end of whatever it was with Bean and how I didn’t want to break someone else down to make myself feel better. Well, that little Dali Lama rainbow moment has passed.
It’s my own fault because I should’ve taken the ending when it came Friday. But there’s really no more horrible feeling in the world for me than hurt when I’m in it and I will do anything I can to make it stop.
So I Facebook stalked his page and when it looked like they’d ended for good on Saturday, I built this pretty little fairy tale in my mind of how…..let’s just say I convinced myself we were star-crossed lovers and buried my hurting heart right in the center of Delusion Central for the weekend and holiday. Because it doesn’t hurt there.
Unfortunately my little vacation was up yesterday when I saw that they were back friends and the truth of my fairy tale was exposed for the mirage it was. Just to make sure the pain was at maximum capacity, I texted him last night so he could have the opportunity to ignore me.
I don’t know what is wrong with me that I can’t look at a situation like this and see the bullet I’ve dodged. I don’t know why I focus on the few miniscule things he did instead of all the glaringly obvious ways he underwhelmed. I don’t know why I, a completely independent woman with her own house/car/good job, will throw myself at the feet of a man freeloading in a soon-to-be foreclosed house, with a car that hasn’t run at all in about 3 months, and a job that doesn’t even pay the bills, if he were someone who actually did something so responsible.
The worst part is, I saw all of this fairly early on. I saw it and I shoved it in a closet to clean it up a little bit, I threw excuses at it to make it prettier, and I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see anything else that might be peeking out. I’m telling you, if worthless guys were a business I could make a killing in Public Relations.
I let him use me for sex, I agreed to it. “Yes, we can be friends with benefits.” Because when he said he wasn’t ready for a relationship I decided he had some issues and I’d just have to wait it out.
He told me…HE. TOLD. ME……not long ago that he’d never liked me in a relationship sense. But then he told me he’d almost liked me and maybe he can again so I took that and built another little fairy tale in my head of what he “really” meant so I could stay a little longer.
I really shouldn’t have been surprised Friday when this girl popped up seemingly out of nowhere. I’d predicted that from the beginning. But when I told him to tell me if he ever met someone, I believed him when he told me he would. And when he told me I was the only one (even just two weeks ago – the last time we hooked up), I believed him again. So I could stay a little longer.
Now I’ve let this worthless excuse for a man leave me for some redneck-looking 30-year old “full time mommy and student” who wears entirely too much eyeliner, while I spend my time thinking of all the wonderful things he’s probably doing for her – that he never did for me – and all the ways she obviously must have been better than me.
I’m just so angry. At myself, at him, at the fact that I don’t have anyone to go to when he’s already gone, and because I have let this epic waste of space make me feel like I’m not good enough, like I’m unworthy, and unlovable. I’m mad because I don’t know if it’s ever going to get better than this for me.
I’m not a princess. This ain’t a fairy tale
I’m not the one you’ll sweep off her feet,
lead her up the stairwell.
This ain’t Hollywood. This is a small town.
I was a dreamer before you went and let me down.
Now it’s too late for you and your white horse to come around.
~ I’m Not a Princess, Taylor Swift