Largely dedicated to Cait and any girl whose inner Hulk is an irrational nightmare.
It seems to me that one of two things happen at the end of a relationship.
1) You fall to pieces. You live eternally reminding yourself of perhaps the only few good memories you had together. You ignore the fact he made you miserable, he made you feel crap about your clothes or your weight or whether you had dessert. You remember that time you went to London on the train and were happy. You forget that it was because of the show you went to see and that you cried on the journey home because he snapped at you in KFC and Ben Folds came on the headphones suggesting you leave him, and he sat there and watched you cry. You miss him. Your friends silently ask themselves why.
2) You revel in the fact he was crap. The realise that the good times were actually average. The bad times were horrendous and needless and damaging. You find strength and grow from the ashes. You have therapy, you feel very bitter and sad that you were young and it came to that, but you are proud of yourself. You move on. You slag him off. He continues to behave like a prick, only furthering your original feeling that at best, he was a waste of time and at worst, dangerous. The relationship could have lasted a few years, but just a couple of weeks after its demise, he means literally nothing to you. Memories pop into your head from time to time and buzz around like flies. They distract you from your current joy. The existence in your head in any form is purely irritating. There is no fondness anymore. He was a bad dream, a poor excuse, a long mistake.
Personally, with the exception of my fiancé (who broke my heart when I was 18, had I not mentioned that?), I have only ever experienced the latter. I do not speak to any of my ex boyfriends. I don't feel the need. The ones who weren't nasty, were immature, grumpy or just generally...incapable of coping with the small demands of life? (Not to mention suspected gay).
I learnt lessons from them all. Absolutely. Many of which have led me to this exact spot. It has given me an understanding of what I need, what makes me happy, and what I never want to go through again (e.g, Priority number 1: Locate heterosexual partner).
So. Could you explain why, when faced with the ghosts that haunt my partner's past, I judge him with a different rule? In my head, she was beautiful (she wasn't), trendy (she wasn't) and wonderful. Well, she wasn't that either. Only half of things he's told me would be enough to dispel that one. She wasn't very nice. And I know that every time he told her he loved her, he was wrong. Whether he knew it then or realised it later is neither here nor there, is it really? He could very feasibly feel the same disdain and boredom to her that I feel towards my past...
And yet, here I am, nauseous to the core, and making murderous threats to my Sims?
It is Monday. Monday. And this is my second cry of the week. For the very last time, FUCK OFF JANUARY.
1) You fall to pieces. You live eternally reminding yourself of perhaps the only few good memories you had together. You ignore the fact he made you miserable, he made you feel crap about your clothes or your weight or whether you had dessert. You remember that time you went to London on the train and were happy. You forget that it was because of the show you went to see and that you cried on the journey home because he snapped at you in KFC and Ben Folds came on the headphones suggesting you leave him, and he sat there and watched you cry. You miss him. Your friends silently ask themselves why.
2) You revel in the fact he was crap. The realise that the good times were actually average. The bad times were horrendous and needless and damaging. You find strength and grow from the ashes. You have therapy, you feel very bitter and sad that you were young and it came to that, but you are proud of yourself. You move on. You slag him off. He continues to behave like a prick, only furthering your original feeling that at best, he was a waste of time and at worst, dangerous. The relationship could have lasted a few years, but just a couple of weeks after its demise, he means literally nothing to you. Memories pop into your head from time to time and buzz around like flies. They distract you from your current joy. The existence in your head in any form is purely irritating. There is no fondness anymore. He was a bad dream, a poor excuse, a long mistake.
Personally, with the exception of my fiancé (who broke my heart when I was 18, had I not mentioned that?), I have only ever experienced the latter. I do not speak to any of my ex boyfriends. I don't feel the need. The ones who weren't nasty, were immature, grumpy or just generally...incapable of coping with the small demands of life? (Not to mention suspected gay).
I learnt lessons from them all. Absolutely. Many of which have led me to this exact spot. It has given me an understanding of what I need, what makes me happy, and what I never want to go through again (e.g, Priority number 1: Locate heterosexual partner).
So. Could you explain why, when faced with the ghosts that haunt my partner's past, I judge him with a different rule? In my head, she was beautiful (she wasn't), trendy (she wasn't) and wonderful. Well, she wasn't that either. Only half of things he's told me would be enough to dispel that one. She wasn't very nice. And I know that every time he told her he loved her, he was wrong. Whether he knew it then or realised it later is neither here nor there, is it really? He could very feasibly feel the same disdain and boredom to her that I feel towards my past...
And yet, here I am, nauseous to the core, and making murderous threats to my Sims?
It is Monday. Monday. And this is my second cry of the week. For the very last time, FUCK OFF JANUARY.