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My ‘best friend’ turned out to be the biggest bitch I've known thus far. For almost six years I entertained our half assed, long-distance romantic involvement and considering I haven’t even seen a quarter century yet that’s a whole lot of my lifetime to be pissin' on asshole! We spent the majority of that time in an open arrangement where we both saw other people and I felt surprisingly comfortable in it. We spent time with each other as much as we possibly could given the 3000 miles between us and our communication was solid. Not even three days had gone by in all of those years without my talking to him. And, it worked because above all I was truly, madly, deeply, stupidly in love. Not one of the men I saw could disrupt that.Six years of history, and as soon as I requested a bit of security, he sidelined me with a truckload of nonsense. Fuck you, dawg. Over the span of eighteen months he toyed with my emotions, bulldozing my heart and building insecurities in his aftermath. At the beginning, helping to forge plans where we could live and be closer to one another and in the end tragically abandoning me at one of the most trying times of my life. Our relationship has ended. All I get is indifference from him. Meanwhile, I feel a deep sense of betrayal, resentfulness, and anger. I should take up boxing or mixed martial arts or something because the way I feel, I could do his property some serious harm!
The first time I propositioned him with commitment he asked for time to test the waters and date around. He cried about how he loved me so much but that he hadn't truly dated much outside of us for all of those years despite our 'open' status and I believed him. He began dating Jumpoff #1 right away. I mean, he could have set a Guinness record. And this dude had the audacity to let his hoe put up Facebook pictures and such. Wow. Now my friends want to know what's going on, who chick is, what happened to us, etc. Okay, bitch you're putting our business in the streets this recklessly? Jumpoff #1 messaged me once asking ridiculous questions about my intentions with him. Are you serious? Meanwhile my bitch and I were still talking almost every day, he visited me and I visited him. We chilled, were intimate and still had great times together so I felt comfortable with Jumpoff #1's unimportance. They inevitably broke it off and he played around with Jumpoff #1.5 who is a blip in drama-filled history so we'll skip to the next one. Unbeknown to me, he soon got into something else with another hoe, Jumpoff #2 who had the audacity to call me once at 4am in the morning, notifying me that she had been dating him for a month, had sex with him and warning me that I ought to stop calling and give him space to be with her. It was an immature move. Dude, handle your pussy ... i mean posse. They stay getting out of line. Looking back I must admit that I appreciate her hoe antics, because she'd exposed something I had no idea about.
After the break up with #2, he claimed to want to take things slowly and make things work with me but I would soon learn of #3, who'd somehow earn her foundation during that last failed attempt and was waiting in the woodworks ... a good friend of #1 mind you. Did I not say these hoes roll in packs? I don't even have the energy to describe the nonsense that ensued except he did a good job of belittling me to a depressed pulp then abandoning me completely when I was at my loneliest. He entertained romantic, nostalgic dinners and sex every now and then but afterwards did not call for days, weeks even and was usually completely unreachable. Then something happened. I discovered that a woman's body has an innate mechanism that works magnificently. In time every thing I loved about him ... his voice ... the softness of his hands, the roughness of the stubble on his face against mine began to make my skin crawl. Similarly, the things i'd never liked ... things like his horrendous snoring began to make his company intolerable. The idea of him in my bed and worse ... inside my body made my stomach sick.
Mr. Rebound #1 and Mr. Rebound #2 failed. Dating again wasn't quite the remedy I had hoped. In fact it didn't work at all. At times I ponder the bitch's situation, thinking about him laid up with new girl sweetly, tightly, contently at night while I continue to sift through a million issues. I have too many fears, little inclination to trust anyone and a hypomania that makes me want to fuck with every dude ... sexually ... and emotionally ... remaining the one chased and in control. It confers a short-lived miracle on my ego to be the vixen though I'm not heartless ... I can't be. I know I'm just an amateur. I'm learning a lot about myself ... what I want, like, need.
Applaud my bitch. Really, give his ass a pat on the back and a standing ovation. Despite those hardest of times, I haven't ever been this strong. Ever. In the midst of this recent revelation ... I've smiled more, laughed harder, thrown away inhibitions, leaped into old-new projects, danced the night away in jeans that hadn't fit comfortably in months.
Who's your bitch?
