Realizations
So I have come to an odd realization. Okay, so Kevin and I were talking about something. I said something and realized what I said was really really true, except its gonna be an oxi moron. Bear with me for just on second, Okay, so I love it when people check up on me, right? Well then at the same time, I don't want to be in a relationship because of the fact that if I were, everytime I go to the grocery, I would be asked 32 questions upon leaving the house. I can't fucking stand that. So I realized this as well. I was on my way home from work, I was curious if AJ even cared that I wasn't even home, then all of a sudden, he texted me. It was a great feeling. I don't know why. Was he actually worried where I was, or was there a hidden agenda behind him texting me? I have no clue. But its fun to think that he actually took the second to sit there and think, oh my god, its like 1:40 and Jimbo isn't home yet, where could he be? Did he get off of work late, or did something else happen? So I might wanna text him to check up on him.
But when Brad and I were together, I would leave to go to the grocery and it would take 32 questions before I could even grasp towards my belongings to see where I was going. Then while I was there, I would get text after text after text. Sometimes I felt like being a smartass and texting back, "Well right now I am currently heading west, towards the meat department st the local Giant Eagle." But I never did. I just gave quick, short responses to his texts. I wonder why he even texted me in the first place. He made it very clear that he did not care about me. One night in particular was when I drank all the vodka, popped my zyprexa's, and cut, and left all the evidence sprawled out on the kitchen floor, while jumping in my car and driving to another state with no business belonging behind the wheel of a vehicle. Not only due to my overdose on pills, but the entire liquer bottle now in my system that hasn't seen an ounce of food in over a week. I will admit, dumb, dumb move. It took him one time of calling me to show how much he cared. That was the only call I got that night. He didn't care. I am sure he celebrated the fact that I potentially killed myself. Little did he know, I had set most of it up. Well the part that I am about to leave out. I called my sister, and told her to make up a good lie to see if he would answer his phone for her. So she came up with one, 3-wayed the call to Brad, and told him that I had called her a few hours prior crying, she couldn't understand a word I had said and told me to call back once I had settled down a bit. Well I never returned that call, according to her. It was kinda fun, there was no reaction out of him, other than, well I was planning on staying here tonight.
Eventually he called me, I, of course, did not pick up the phone. I was very proud of myself. I knew it would be some b.x. that would have come out of his mouth, especially since I had heard the entire conversation between my sister and him.
Anyhow, I got way off topic, I miss the people that actually used to just call/text just to "check" up on me. I don't know if it was out of concern, or the hidden agenda's. But either way, great feeling to have that.
But on the otherhand, I hate that in a relationship I get asked those questions. I guess its almost a feeling of distrust of me. I don't appreciate it. Although, if you knowingly let me know that you are going to the grocery, and you are gone for the next 4 hours, I will be fuming. There is no explanation for the fact that you went to the grocery, come home sweaty and smelly as hell, and you borrowed my car to take the 1/4 mile hike up the road. And then return my car with more than a half tank of gas missing. No righteous explanation. I mean, that never happened to me.... just a friend.
Who the hell am I kidding. I knew he was cheating. I enjoyed the fighting. I have noone to let my aggression out to. I knowingly let him cheat. I sat there for months, fighting my addiction for food. I sat there spent thousands on ways to make myself look better, smell better, and feel better. I never once needed liposuction, botox, or antidepressants. Maybe the antidepressants were useful, but there was no need to get them for the reasons that I did. I did it to make myself happier in a relationship that I was never happy in, in the first place. Don't get me wrong, I miss him, I miss him a lot. I miss the friendship that we once enjoyed together. But that friendship went sour when I figured out his dirty sceme to use me for my credit, and I used him for the money. That was fine with me. At least I did get some of the things out of it. Thank fucking god I did not just up and quit my jobS and become the "House Husband" he wanted me to be. I would be in my current situation, and 10x worse than I am now.
As far as court, I have thought it through many, many times. I don't want to deal with the headaches anymore. I am so done with thinking about him, and will live a lot longer prosperous life without the thought of him, nor the stress and physical and mental pain that I have endured on his behalf. I hate him so much for some of the things he has done to me. I look in the mirror daily, and if not cry, tear up. I look so hideous. I used to be so full of myself and actually think I was a good looking person. I also look in the mirror and think of how much weight I have gained, and feel fat because of it. I am not fat however. 30 inch waist is still not healthy. Last but not least, I look in the mirror at my super skinny legs and remember how nice they were before cosmetic surgery. They were beautiful. They were "chunky" but with a muscular physique to them. I miss those bitches. I look constantly at the credit card statements I have, and think, wow, ten thousand dollars in cosmetic surgery, that could have been my Ford Fusion.
I was prescribed anti depressants. But not because I was depressed. But because I didn't know what was right or wrong. I never got to see my parents happy. I saw my very abusive father take a swat at me whenever he got the chance. I saw complete unhappieness in a home that was originally built upon love. I mean, every person that has entered my life has meant well in their own sort of way. I do not regret. I live, I take it day by day. I rarely know right from wrong, and live upon, if its not broke, don't fix it. Like I said, I never know what is suppsed to be the right thing to do. I know I like guys, my dad says I am going through a phase, and mema said she knows when a child will be gay, and I was not one of them. I looked in the mirror and saw a very cute looking young man, I was told I was obese and ugly. I don't know how a real relatonship is supposed to work, I have never seen one in full force. Both of my parents are in marriages for all the wrong reasons. One is in a "business aggreement", and the other is in it "for the kids".
Maybe I do need help, who knows. Or maybe I just need to actually be out on the prowl for that one person will sweep me off my feet and treat me the way I know I would treat them. But for now, I will moap in my own self pity, and just dream about it at night, and wake with a smile on my face, that hold the deepest secret. I am not that happy, nor have I ever been.
Inside, I am very dark. There are no light bulbs, someone forgot to pay the electric bill. I see black makeup, hair and fingernails. I see pale skin, deep red lips, dark clothes. There is a lot of pain on the inside, no bandage will ever heal the wounds. There is a shattered heart, in fact, in so many peices, it is not able to be put back together. There is not a bodily harm that will hurt me. There is not a feeling in the world that I am able to feel. Whether it be happy, sorrow, or pain, emotional or physical. In fact, it bleeds off pain. I grasps it, wants more. Sharp objects are my weakness. Beautiful pills. Just pop one in my mouth, and chew on it, likc the dust off my lips, mmmmm. Its like sex almost, feels that great. I can feel that. It makes all the physical and emotional pain go away for a few minutes, then reality strikes, and it never went away, it was just a mask. Much like the one I wear over my face day in, day out. Its a painful one. I wear bright colored clothes to mask the past. I feel its all behind me. Hopefully, maybe oneday, there are bright colors in my near future. We will see. For now I will hold that very, very loosely to me. Until that day comes, I will continue to just hide under these covers, act fake as hell, and fake it until I make it.
But when Brad and I were together, I would leave to go to the grocery and it would take 32 questions before I could even grasp towards my belongings to see where I was going. Then while I was there, I would get text after text after text. Sometimes I felt like being a smartass and texting back, "Well right now I am currently heading west, towards the meat department st the local Giant Eagle." But I never did. I just gave quick, short responses to his texts. I wonder why he even texted me in the first place. He made it very clear that he did not care about me. One night in particular was when I drank all the vodka, popped my zyprexa's, and cut, and left all the evidence sprawled out on the kitchen floor, while jumping in my car and driving to another state with no business belonging behind the wheel of a vehicle. Not only due to my overdose on pills, but the entire liquer bottle now in my system that hasn't seen an ounce of food in over a week. I will admit, dumb, dumb move. It took him one time of calling me to show how much he cared. That was the only call I got that night. He didn't care. I am sure he celebrated the fact that I potentially killed myself. Little did he know, I had set most of it up. Well the part that I am about to leave out. I called my sister, and told her to make up a good lie to see if he would answer his phone for her. So she came up with one, 3-wayed the call to Brad, and told him that I had called her a few hours prior crying, she couldn't understand a word I had said and told me to call back once I had settled down a bit. Well I never returned that call, according to her. It was kinda fun, there was no reaction out of him, other than, well I was planning on staying here tonight.
Eventually he called me, I, of course, did not pick up the phone. I was very proud of myself. I knew it would be some b.x. that would have come out of his mouth, especially since I had heard the entire conversation between my sister and him.
Anyhow, I got way off topic, I miss the people that actually used to just call/text just to "check" up on me. I don't know if it was out of concern, or the hidden agenda's. But either way, great feeling to have that.
But on the otherhand, I hate that in a relationship I get asked those questions. I guess its almost a feeling of distrust of me. I don't appreciate it. Although, if you knowingly let me know that you are going to the grocery, and you are gone for the next 4 hours, I will be fuming. There is no explanation for the fact that you went to the grocery, come home sweaty and smelly as hell, and you borrowed my car to take the 1/4 mile hike up the road. And then return my car with more than a half tank of gas missing. No righteous explanation. I mean, that never happened to me.... just a friend.
Who the hell am I kidding. I knew he was cheating. I enjoyed the fighting. I have noone to let my aggression out to. I knowingly let him cheat. I sat there for months, fighting my addiction for food. I sat there spent thousands on ways to make myself look better, smell better, and feel better. I never once needed liposuction, botox, or antidepressants. Maybe the antidepressants were useful, but there was no need to get them for the reasons that I did. I did it to make myself happier in a relationship that I was never happy in, in the first place. Don't get me wrong, I miss him, I miss him a lot. I miss the friendship that we once enjoyed together. But that friendship went sour when I figured out his dirty sceme to use me for my credit, and I used him for the money. That was fine with me. At least I did get some of the things out of it. Thank fucking god I did not just up and quit my jobS and become the "House Husband" he wanted me to be. I would be in my current situation, and 10x worse than I am now.
As far as court, I have thought it through many, many times. I don't want to deal with the headaches anymore. I am so done with thinking about him, and will live a lot longer prosperous life without the thought of him, nor the stress and physical and mental pain that I have endured on his behalf. I hate him so much for some of the things he has done to me. I look in the mirror daily, and if not cry, tear up. I look so hideous. I used to be so full of myself and actually think I was a good looking person. I also look in the mirror and think of how much weight I have gained, and feel fat because of it. I am not fat however. 30 inch waist is still not healthy. Last but not least, I look in the mirror at my super skinny legs and remember how nice they were before cosmetic surgery. They were beautiful. They were "chunky" but with a muscular physique to them. I miss those bitches. I look constantly at the credit card statements I have, and think, wow, ten thousand dollars in cosmetic surgery, that could have been my Ford Fusion.
I was prescribed anti depressants. But not because I was depressed. But because I didn't know what was right or wrong. I never got to see my parents happy. I saw my very abusive father take a swat at me whenever he got the chance. I saw complete unhappieness in a home that was originally built upon love. I mean, every person that has entered my life has meant well in their own sort of way. I do not regret. I live, I take it day by day. I rarely know right from wrong, and live upon, if its not broke, don't fix it. Like I said, I never know what is suppsed to be the right thing to do. I know I like guys, my dad says I am going through a phase, and mema said she knows when a child will be gay, and I was not one of them. I looked in the mirror and saw a very cute looking young man, I was told I was obese and ugly. I don't know how a real relatonship is supposed to work, I have never seen one in full force. Both of my parents are in marriages for all the wrong reasons. One is in a "business aggreement", and the other is in it "for the kids".
Maybe I do need help, who knows. Or maybe I just need to actually be out on the prowl for that one person will sweep me off my feet and treat me the way I know I would treat them. But for now, I will moap in my own self pity, and just dream about it at night, and wake with a smile on my face, that hold the deepest secret. I am not that happy, nor have I ever been.
Inside, I am very dark. There are no light bulbs, someone forgot to pay the electric bill. I see black makeup, hair and fingernails. I see pale skin, deep red lips, dark clothes. There is a lot of pain on the inside, no bandage will ever heal the wounds. There is a shattered heart, in fact, in so many peices, it is not able to be put back together. There is not a bodily harm that will hurt me. There is not a feeling in the world that I am able to feel. Whether it be happy, sorrow, or pain, emotional or physical. In fact, it bleeds off pain. I grasps it, wants more. Sharp objects are my weakness. Beautiful pills. Just pop one in my mouth, and chew on it, likc the dust off my lips, mmmmm. Its like sex almost, feels that great. I can feel that. It makes all the physical and emotional pain go away for a few minutes, then reality strikes, and it never went away, it was just a mask. Much like the one I wear over my face day in, day out. Its a painful one. I wear bright colored clothes to mask the past. I feel its all behind me. Hopefully, maybe oneday, there are bright colors in my near future. We will see. For now I will hold that very, very loosely to me. Until that day comes, I will continue to just hide under these covers, act fake as hell, and fake it until I make it.