Someone noted my blog as one of their favorites to read on bloginterviewer.com and to that someone, I say, thank you and I am super excited that my semi-coherent ramblings can actually be considered a good read! So please check out, if you will or care to do so, the interview thingie I did at bloginterviewer.com. Just click the button above (cause I finally bothered to learn how to link pictures to things) and gimme some love!
You know when your friend goes through a tough break-up, you are the epitome of rationality, comforting and nurturing and telling him/her that no matter how bad it hurts, it will, inevitably, get better?
Well, it does get better. You know it does. Surely, you are certain that it does. You've been through this before - you had to let someone go or someone let you go for whatever reason and the pain was unbearable for some time. When you knew that what you were doing was for the best, and that there was no viable future for you and your former companion, and that your tears and hopes were not worth remaining in the dead-end situation, you put on a brave front, kicked your heart to the curb and let your brain make the rational decision. And you felt that pain. And you dealt with it somehow. And you came out a stronger individual as a result of your experience.
But when you, yourself, end up in that very same situation once again, all rationality goes right out of the window. And after you've cried uncontrollably in your pillow to stifle your sobbing because the walls of your apartment were too thin and you didn't want your neighbors to hear your laments, after you've wiped your face with a tear-soaked tissue and reminded yourself that you deserve so much better and that he is a fool to treat you this way, you still felt that painful pang that felt more like a punch to your heart. And that's when you questioned yourself, asking "Is it really going to get better?"
Okay, so I am talking about myself here and the final straw that broke a camel's back in the ongoing saga with me and Mr J. After he declared that he will be "too busy" to visit me for his spring break this week, I've decided that I've had enough.
Enough of his irrational jealousy and late night phone calls, enough of him questioning every single post on my Facebook wall by my very platonic male friends, enough of it all. I am done with Mr J and, this time, I do believe that I'm done for good.
I have been living in a fantasy land for the last several months, thinking that, somehow, Mr J and I can end up together. Who am I kidding? He is not ready for a relationship. Instead, he wants to have his cake and eat it too. Well... not even eat it. He just wants to control the cake and question the cake about cake's every single move. But the truth of the matter is, the cake is very single and, as some time passes and the cake will find a rewarding and fulfilling job and settle down somewhere, the cake will be ready to date again.
So, as the cake... I mean, as I am sitting here and having a second beer and feeling the alcohol begin to dull my pain, I am ready to call it quits on this quasi-relationship for good.
Goodbye (and fuck you), Mr J. Someday you'll be nothing but a distant memory and, someday, you will realize that you've let a great girl slip right out of your stubby fingers. Don't worry, that day will come, but it will be far too late to salvage anything you've already irreparably destroyed.