Another night, another film. This one is a bit odd but was suggested to me by One Ball. He doesn’t know about my current obsession with The Big Love, nor does he know about my two week breakup crash course, but he stole some films from my hard drive, came across this one and told me I must watch it. Apparently it’s good for a breakup. So here I am….
There were a few things about this film that started the cogs turning. At one point, the guy changed his attitude and personality to match what the girl on the date was looking for. I definitely do this in long term relationships. I tend to “morph” into the guy, regardless of how hard I tried to prevent it. This actually didn’t happen with The Big Love however. In fact, I went totally the other way from the girl that he was actually looking for. It was weird – it wasn’t really “me”, nor was it the girl he wanted. I lost myself for a while, and it seems to be taking an awfully long time to find me again.
Aside from him, there was definite morphing happening. Does this happen with everyone? In the film, he then goes on to say that the girl he had been so “in touch with” had now become obsessed with the worlds most unattractive shoe? Basically, he discusses how differences occur within a relationship and how you must accommodate each other. Did I accommodate these men? Or was I incapable of keeping my opinions to myself, thus destroying everything we actually shared? Did I really care about the “unattractive shoe”, or in my case with The Big Love, the really awful headband he used to wear at the gym, or was I just opening my mouth for the sake of it?
I hated The Big Love’s sudden passion for the gym, and the fact that it kept coming between us because I just wasn’t that much of a gym bunny. All of a sudden he was buff and beautiful, and I was the fat girl that didn’t look good in photos next to him.
I hated the relationship he had with his best friend. I thought he lead him down the wrong path, especially with my guy’s drug riddled past. The same went for the tattoo artist.
I hated the fact I could never get time off work to actually enjoy activities with The Big Love, thus resenting it when he went and did them anyway. That certainly wasn’t his fault, but I blamed him nevertheless.
The thing I found intriguing about this film, and I guess the moral of tonight’s story, was that it had me thinking about all the things I did wrong in the relationship, and how I could potentially have destroyed it all. I did give him a hard time about things that were out of his control. I also started hating the things he enjoyed with a passion, because I couldn’t actively enjoy doing them with him. I hated roller blading because I didn’t have the patience for it and I wasn’t very good. He loved it and did it on an almost daily basis. These activities became his escape from me, and in turn, I grew to hate them.
The guy in the film then goes on to talk about the quirks that you pick up from each other in the relationship. I started picking up on his phrases – “perpy dawg” for example, when talking about every dog we came across, and “I can’t do it” in a faux-Indian accent that he had picked up from a film.
I don’t think he ever really picked up on any of my quirks, but I definitely stole a few of his. That must have annoyed him. I know it annoys me when people pick up my things. For example, I use the word “gay” when someone does something cute for me, or compliments me, and I don’t know how to take it. For example – “You look really cute tonight!” he says. I reply – “Gay”
The Guy I Couldn’t Get Rid Of used to steal my “gay” phrase all the damn time, and it proper pissed me off. Get your own damn phrases. Now I can understand how picking up and stealing The Big Love’s quirks must have annoyed him.
I don’t even know where I’m going with this blog post. This film is definitely one that gets the brain thinking. It has me realizing that, in a relationship, I am truly irritating. Everything this guy talks about – all the annoying things that happen with certain people in a relationship, I do! I morph, I pick up quirks, I daydream futures with people when I know there is no chance of it actually happening. I can’t keep my opinions to myself. Things that I once loved about people start to bug me. I’m no longer obsessing with The Big Love. Now I’m obsessing over myself!!!
Back to reality and One Ball came over tonight. This time, however, we didn’t have sex. We teased of course; I laid on my front and he planted soft kisses all over my back, stroking me lightly with his fingers. I kissed all over his chest and stomach. It was different from what we normally do, but I didn’t hate it. It was something more than just sex… I think tonight I needed comfort, and he was there to give it to me. We cuddled for a long time, just chilling and talking. It was nice. Maybe there is more to this guy and our “whatever it is” than I first thought. Perhaps my breakup crash course is actually starting to work? I do feel sorry for you guys having to read all this soppy shit. I know you’re just waiting for the sex…. Bear with me! The sex will come back, I promise! And hopefully once I’ve got the ex out of my head, things will go right back to normal – hot, sweaty, naughty, hardcore sex!
For now, I want to say thank you! Thanks to all of your comments, likes and reads, and for bearing with me on my long & complicated journey. Whether or not you like to believe it, you guys are actually helping xoxoxo
My horoscopes have said recently that an old flame would get in touch. I actually thought they were referring to Number 3 from the other night: So I Got Turned Down. Turns out I was wrong. The Big Love got in touch. This was last night and I’m still reeling…
Our old friend and tattoo artist had hung himself. It was a courtesy message. I couldn’t believe it. This guy was so full of life, and such a talented artist; how had this happened? I stalked the Big Love’s Facebook. He had rushed to tell me before he had even said the obligatory RIP message on Facebook! What did this mean? The tattoo artist and I weren’t close. We partied a few times, he did two of my tattoos, the three of us did coke a bunch of times, and I watched a lot of the Big Loves tattoos…. I couldn’t understand why he had felt the need to rush home and tell me about it.
After a wee message frenzy with my one of my girlfriends from the other side of the world, she had thought it was a reason for him to message me without seeming desperate, and that perhaps things weren’t that great with him and his new girlfriend. It was weird however, it was very civil and I sent the last message…
It was our first real conversation since I had left about 8 months ago. It knocked me for six, and now he’s in my damn head. I went through some of our photos later on last night and found a good one of the Big Love and the tattoo artist during one of the many coke filled “inking” parties. I emailed it to him with a message:
Remember the good times.
He had said that he had been ranting on the artist to do a few touch ups and he felt bad about it. They were close at one point, but I didn’t know whether or not they were still close. All I had was the obligatory “I hope you are ok, my heart goes out to you” message. And now he’s in my head. I thought One Ball had given me the big crush I needed for just now, but now he’s like the smallest thing in the world to me. The Big Love is all I can think about. Why did he message me? How is he? What’s going on with him? Should I message him again to find out if he is OK? What the fuck am I doing? This guy ripped my heart to shreds, and I’m letting him work his way back in. The worst of it is he probably doesn’t even know it!!!!
Why am I putting myself through this again? Getting over him was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, and I’m not even there yet! Why am I letting him get into my head? Why? I dreamed of him last night. It was a good dream. We were happy on the couch that WE bought, wrapped in the blanket that we ALWAYS snuggled up in, watching the TV that I had helped him hook up. Fuck him. And fuck those happy memories. Where’s my One Ball or My Mr. Grey when I really need them?!?
OK, it’s official. I am already fed up of this being single business. I am lonely, I am horny, and above all, I miss having someone to snuggle up with in bed at night. What the hell is wrong with me? I had The Lapdog and I didn’t want him; now I do. I had the guy I couldn’t get rid of but did, I didn’t want him, and now I kinda want him to come back. What the hell?
I do appreciate that I am a girl, and I am meant to change my mind every five minutes, but this is beyond ridiculous now.
Work today was fun – we dressed up in beach wear to raise money for charity. I have a large chest that I rarely get out in public. Today, I made an exception. I wore a tight fitting white vest with a Hawaiian shirt over the top, tied up at the waist, and I did my hair and makeup all big and colorful. Did I find a single man to flirt with? Did I fuck? All that tit and no “tadaaa” Perfect. Just what my confidence needs right now.
After work I met the Bestie I’ve Never Had a Dalliance With. We did some shopping, went for some coffee, and generally had a giggle. We held hands in the grocery store – this is something we do a lot. It never means anything to either of us; it’s just something we do. Today it made me realize how much I missed having someone else’s fingers in those spaces between my own. I want to feel the warmth, and perhaps love, of a man around me. That is, of course, until I have it and then I no longer want it anymore.
I am now home, staring at my computer screen and wondering what is up with my evening. It’s a Friday night and my big plans are – smoke a spliff, eat the two large bars of chocolate I have bought, and fall asleep, possibly watching some cheesy romantic movie that will make me cry and feel even worse about myself than I already do right now. What a great Friday night.
The thing is I don’t really go out drinking these days. I don’t really go out and do a lot of anything, so the chances of me actually meeting a man that I want to have some kind, any kind of relationship with is pretty damn slim. How the hell am I meant to meet a man when I work, come home and look after my demented family, (the Grandpa was poorly at the beginning of the week so I am kind of caring for him right now) and smoke weed until I giggle and don’t feel the loneliness of being single anymore? I don’t really have that many friends here anymore either – I was away for seven years and only came back around six months ago. All of my old friends are either people I cannot stand to be around anymore, (the town I live in is less than desirable) or have had babies, got married and moved on with their lives. It would seem that I have gone right back to the beginning, and with all my travelling and love stories, I am no closer to where I want to be than what I was when I was 17 years old!
It’s hard meeting new people when you don’t even know where you belong anymore. Do I want to stay in this country now? Is it even worth me trying to make new friends? Where do I see myself in five years time? These are all questions I have randomly zipping through my mind, and in reality, I have no idea what the answers are to any of them. All I know is that I want to be happy. I don’t know if I want a relationship, and I probably won’t know until the right (or wrong) man comes along. I don’t know if I want to get married again. I don’t know if I want babies. I’m just over my mid-twenties now, so these are things that surely I would, or should know by now? Everyone keeps telling me that one day I will wake up and everything will click into place, especially where babies and such like are concerned. Why hasn’t this happened to me yet? I have been married, I have been in love, and I have moved to the other side of the world for men that I would have given my right arm to. Why don’t I want kids yet?
This is why I hate being single. I question everything about myself that I thought I loved. I used to love the fact that I was a free spirit that had no home. I used to love that I was an adventure seeker. I used to love that I was unpredictable. Now I’m not so sure. Perhaps it is just the weird and strange place that I am in right now? After all, we have pretty much established that I am nowhere near over the Big Love, (no more Facebook posts to report as yet) and definitely not ready to move on. One thing is for sure however, and that is that something needs to change soon; otherwise I can see myself spiraling into a dark place that I was once, and hope never to go to again. In all fairness, I probably just need a bit of action – another little fling to help me through my dark days. It always seemed to help before….
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I am going to apologize in advance – this post is going to be one long man-hating rant. The Big Love, Number 29 on the list – “What’s Your Number?” the one I am still pining for; the one that broke my heart into a thousand teeny-tiny little pieces, and who I haven’t yet recovered from – he has done it once again!
They say it takes half the time you with that person to get over them, and we were together for 2 years, so technically, I still have 6 months more pining over that man to get through yet. Screw him! Well, with a little bit of Facebook stalking this morning, I read his latest Facebook post – he’s buying a house with his new girlfriend. They have been together just under 6 months. We were together for 2 years and I couldn’t even get him to commit to sponsoring me to stay in the godamn country! He couldn’t in all fairness – he had a bankruptcy looming over him that still wasn’t finished yet, which brings me nicely to my next point – how the f*** is he buying a house with his credit?! I feel so used right now. I worked my ass off, 6 days a week, to pay off his shit – his kid that he doesn’t see from a previous two-night stand, the wife that he was divorcing, and the bills that he never sorted out which lead to his bankruptcy in the first place… I feel like such a stepping stone. We built up a beautiful rented house, and I spent a small fortune in art on the walls and making the place look nice. Now he’s living there with his new Bitch and they are buying a house!
I don’t even know why I’m upset to be honest, or why it has affected me in quite this way, but when I read that Facebook post, I quite literally burst into tears. I am still not over this man, nor am I going to be for some time yet it would seem. He broke my heart. I don’t even know where to begin, but I guess I owe you guys some sort of explanation for the current man-hating, sex-addicted whore that I have become.
It was the massive love story. We were in a war zone. He had not long left his wife; I was in the process of leaving my husband. Meeting this guy gave me the kick up the backside that I so desperately needed in order to finally leave the husband. Number 29, the Big Love as we shall call him, showed me how a girl should be treated – he gave me an opening into the fairytale that I was so desperately seeking for. It was fast, it was crazy, and it was love. Big Love. I left my war zone, left my husband, moved to the other side of the world to be with the Big Love, and it soon began to fall apart. Without going into too many details because that would just give the game away, we started fighting.
He had a drug problem that kept resurfacing, and after a while, he ended up losing his job after crashing one of his work trucks into a bank in the snow. He refused counseling because he didn’t need it, clearly. We were on/off, on/off, on/off for a long time, and it ended up being a revolving circle of pain and hatred, love and tears until eventually, I found the courage I needed to finally book a flight, pack up all of my stuff into the smallest, cheapest boxes I could find and fly my sorry ass back home, with tears in my eyes and a heavy, heavy heart.
In all fairness, I wholeheartedly believe that this guy was “The One”, if there even is such a thing. He made me the happiest I have ever been, even when I was sad, and although I think I miss the life that I had on the other side of the world more than I actually miss him, it still pains me to know that we are no longer together, and I can no longer see his beaming smile, or cradle into the “nook” of his armpit when we sleep together at night in our beautiful, massive king sized bed.
The fact that he is buying a house, or even thinking about buying a house, with a girl that he has been with for just six months, hurts me right to my very core. It’s like a stab in the heart. A stab that I was almost expecting, but not for some time yet!
I guess in reality, I was still expecting the fairytale to come true – that somehow, someday he was going to turn up on my doorstep and tell me that he had made the biggest mistake in letting me walk away. He was always telling me that he believed I was the one for him – even right to the last minute he said such a thing. Yet now, just six months on, he’s already over me and moving on to a new and happier lifestyle with his new Bitch. She may be the nicest person in the world, but to me, just as with the Lapdog, she will be the Bitch.
Surely he can’t be over me already? I know what he is like in a relationship – I saw it with me and I saw snippets of it from when he was with his wife. He loves them all over Facebook, at every possible opportunity, yet with this girl; the new girl, he has barely mentioned her. There are no photos of them together, aside from on her Facebook, there are no big “I love you’s” – these are all things he does with EVERY relationship, yet not with her?! Why is this? Is she just a stepping stone too? Something that he needs in order to buy the house he has been so desperately craving for so many years.
He had this big life plan that he would be married again and buying a house by the time he was 30 so that he could settle down and have kids – that’s what was meant to have happened with us. Why is it happening so quickly with her?
I guess right now, my biggest problem is jealousy. I am jealous, and I freely admit it. I am jealous that she is spending those nights with MY man. The man that I believe was meant for ME! How did I go through all the hard work of re-building his confidence when he had none, persuading him to try new things, building a beautiful home, and making sure he had a beautiful closet with new piercings and tattoos, great hair, a beaming smile… all for her to enjoy? How is this fair? And how much longer am I going to keep feeling like this?
All I know is that stalking his Facebook page isn’t helping me, and I should probably stop that, but in all fairness, I probably never will. I just hope that he is happy, and that she is too. Maybe he has changed now; maybe he is a better person, away from the drugs, and with his head screwed on? All I know is that no matter how much of a Fuck Up he was when we were together, I still could have dealt with so much more shit, and I would have done quite happily if it meant staying with him and us making it to the big fairytale ending. I guess now we will never know, and my heart will continue to break until eventually it mends itself. I don’t usually regret anything that I have done, but in all honesty, I REALLY regret walking away from him and somewhere deep down, I feel I have made a terrible mistake… Although to be fair, how much more is one person meant to go through before they finally decide enough is enough?
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Tonight I am feeling melancholy. I got home from work, smoked a doobie and to be honest, I’m feeling kinda sad today. I don’t even know really. Actually, I think I do know what it is. It’s loneliness. I may love to laugh, joke around and generally be obsessed with sex but in reality, I’m just a little girl in a big world looking for her happy ending.
I think about all the guys I left behind… I’m doing that right now. The Hubby with his wandering cock and anger problem, The Big Love with the beautiful face and the coke problem, The Lapdog with the amazing sex and the stalker problem. All of these guys had a massive impact on me in one way or another, and although I may have come far with regards to how much dignity I try and hold up, or how little I will put up with shit, I’m still no closer to finding the fairytale ending that everyone tells me I deserve.
I miss my Big Love. I miss it at times like this when I’m feeling blue. He hurt me more than anyone else, and in reality, I guess he didn’t really do anything wrong. Even despite the tears I cried and the lonely nights I spent on the couch, I’d give anything to be back there. Not all the time, of course, just at times like this.
I miss the way our bed felt with him in it. He was always warm in bed, and as much as I used to hate his snoring with a passion, it was comforting to know he was there. I never once thought the one thing I hated about him more than anything else would end up being the one thing about him I find myself missing the most. That and the way his arms felt around me. I remember this one time that I was crying so hard, I wasn’t really making a noise anymore; I was just shaking all over, and dribbling all the over the place. Anyway, he gave me the biggest cuddle. He pulled me onto his lap, wrapped his arms around me, and just held me without saying a word for what felt like eternity. He made me feel safe. The zombie apocalypse; he’d have saved me from that for sure.
He had a new girlfriend in no time after I left, but I don’t think he’s that into it to be honest. I know what he’s like in love and he likes to shout about it, especially on Facebook. She’s very clearly into him, but yet there is nothing back the other way. Maybe I’m wrong, I just think he had something to prove once I’d gone. She was it.
I stalk him on Facebook sometimes. It rips me to shreds and I don’t know why I do it to myself. I’m kinda waiting for the day he leaves her. I’m not sure why – I doubt he’d even think about me. But it would make me feel better for sure!
I miss The Lapdog too. He’s happy with the Bitch. I’m glad, I really am. At the same time though, I hate it. I know I have my current guy; the one I’m trying to get rid of. Last night he really made me smile. I don’t know if it’s because I hadn’t seem him in a while, but the sex was epic (he tied me up and blindfolded me) and I thought he looked cute. He had his hair different and I really liked it. I actually had a good time with him. And then this morning I realised again that I’m still not that into him. Not even spending the night in his ‘nook’ – the bit where his armpit meets his chest, and your head just fits perfectly. He did wake me up at 5am for sex though. Idiot. He knows I’m not a morning person. And when I got home from work, he’d left his cup in my room and not bothered to clean up after himself. Huff! I guess I’m just having a bad day. A bad day that would have been perfectly fixed by a good cuddle from a man I adore….
Not So Sex in My City! 