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Stuck Words.

There are words, sentences, pleas that I would like to spew at my ex’s family.  But I cannot.  At least not right now.  There are different words for his extended family, but to his mother and sister there are certain things they should know and understand.  These are the words that are stuck:

You take him for granted.  You two talk about being used and abusd and yet you don’t even realize that you are the ones using and abusing him.  Sister, you leave your children with him all the time.  You talked about how your cousin shouldn’t’ve left her son with him while her mother was dying in the hospital, and yet every night you drive away from home leaving him there with YOUR children.  I understand that your life was a living hell with your husband, but that does not give you the right to leave your brother to raise your children while you slink down the road to whore yourself away for the drugs you so desperately desire.  Mother, you invite drama and chaos into your home and create calamity among your family.  You say you hate the conflicts, and yet you embrace conflict like an old friend and spread it around as though it is an irrisistable delight.  I can see your eyes light up when you tell me that so-and-so said or did such-and-such and how terrible said such-and-such is.

Can you guys not see what you are doing to him?  You complain that he’s such an ass all the time, but guess what? You’re treating him like an ass!  Remember the golden rule?  Treat others as you’d want to be treated?  He has such great love in his heart for those he cares about.  He doesn’t complain about never having a free night.  He doesn’t buy into the drama.  He simply let’s that roll off his shoulders because he cannot do anything about it.  But can’t you see that he is a broken man?  He has his own hurts and turmoil and you two can’t even see it!

Why do you think I broke up with him?  Because of that slut, Amy? No.  Because he’s an ass? Partially.  But ultimately I broke up with him because I knew that he needed me to be the bad guy.  He couldn’t bring himself to break my heart.  I came to realize that being the cause of my pain was too much for him.  So I took it upon myself.  I did not want to break up with him.  I love him.  I love him so much it hurts!  He needs to heal.  He needs time.  And it’s not from all this recent shit either.  This is stuff from years and years ago, long before I even came along.  You know he hasn’t seen his kids since he left his ex-wife, right?  And you know that woman has been withholding phones calls from him, right?  You know his heart breaks when she does that, right?  Could you imagine not being able to see or talk to your child because some bitch ass woman thinks she’s better than you?  I understand that he needs to deal with his stuff in his way and in his time.  He couldn’t meet my needs and our needs because he can’t even meet his own.  And you two aren’t helping either.

I talk alot about hearts breaking.  Have you ever truly felt that pain?  You know, that pain that literally, physically feels as though someone has reached through your chest and squeezed your heart with both hands? Tried to shred it? Twisted your heart and stabbed it with sharp fingernails?  Have you ever felt that?  I feel that everyday when I think about him and the pain he is going though.  The pain you two can’t seem to comprehend.

Don’t be surprised when he just ups and disappears.  Don’t be surprised when he decides to put himself first for once in his life.  Don’t be suprised when your selfishness drives him away…  He’s already starting his escape. Can’t you feel it?  Why do you think I’m always offering to watch the kids or volunteering to be available if you guys need me?  Because I know you are using and abusing him.  You take him for granted.

I love him.  When he hugged me the other day, I felt like I was home.  I cry all the time because I feel so lost and alone without him near.  He needs his time.  He needs his space.  He needs to figure out his stuff before he completely falls apart.

Please.  Please, please stop this madness.

I just rambled all that out with no real process… There’s so much I’d like to say. Obviously.

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A Real Post.

Ok.  The previous post was just stupid (let’s be honest and call it what it really is).

I have been incredibly restless this weekend.  The weekends are harder than the weekdays.  This weekend has been boring.  I caught up on Dexter… I only own the first season, so throughout this week I watched seasons 2-6.  I moved on to True Blood.  True Blood is one of those shows that you should NOT watch if you are 1.) squeemish, 2.) conservative, 3.) sexually reserved, 4.) homophobic, 5.) anti-drug/alcohol,  etc.

Change in thought:
My boobs have been hurting and I’m starting to cramp like crazy.  Here comes Aunt Flow.  Lol.  I’m a little late.  Nothing to worry about though.  I have a feeling that by the end of this day, I’ll be doing my monthly thing.  I’ve never been quite regular unless I was on birth control.  When I was on the pill, I’d know the day and relative time of day that I’d be starting and ending my monthly.  That was nice.  I haven’t been on the pill in a long time.  Currently I have no interest in the pill whatsoever because my boyfriend and I are (hoping) planning on starting a family in the near future… But while I’m discussing birth control, maybe I should share my thoughts on safe sex…

I grew up quite sheltered.  I know a lot of people say they were “sheltered” children, but I didn’t know much about the real world until I met one of my best friends (who happens to be a guy).  I went to my first bar with him.  I had been drunk before I had met him, but way drunker than I had ever been after I met him.

Ok, safe sex talk is for another blog.  This one will be about my best guy friend (BGF).

I met BGF in college during the Spring 2006 semester.  I was so shy.  I walked in to our Developmental Psychology class and nearly all of the seats were taken except one between two guys: BGF and another guy who also became a friend.  After that class we also had Community Psychology together.  The three of us always sat together and we sometimes went to one of the local bars after class for a quick drink.  The next semester BGF and I had a couple of other classes together.  We became study buddies and really good friends.

When I met BGF I:
1. was a virgin
2. thought most single, never-married people were virgins
3. had never touched an illegal substance
4. didn’t cuss. Ever.
5. and probably a lot of other naive things…

Now:
1. I live with my boyfriend and we have sex
2. I’ve never been married (and again) I have sex
3.I’ve dabbled with a couple illegal substances
4. I fucking cuss
5. and I’ve done a bunch of other things my family would never approve of

I’ve come a long way.  Haha.  No, I have not and will not sleep with BGF.  BGF brought me out of my shell.  I learned a lot about humanity and the way we are because I decided to become a nonjudgmental individual.  I chose to be open and honest with myself.  Now, I’m not saying that corrupting me was the right thing for BGF to do.  The thing is, I think I wanted to be corrupted, that I was already that way deep down inside but just didn’t know how to go about becoming a “normal” person.

I don’t love everything about myself or everything I’ve done in my life.  In fact, I’ve made a shit ton of mistakes.  But that’s how we grow.  We make mistakes, we learn, and we change because of what we have learned.  Right now my life situation isn’t optimal.  But life could be a lot worse.  I’ve made some pretty big mistakes, but because I learned from them I was able to change for the better and now — I’m happy.

Good day.

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