Mondaytastic.
So, my weekend had been going well up until about 10:30pm last night. But I'll get to that later. I had a great hangout with Abby on Thursday, and we watched a good movie and had a fantastic heart-to-heart. It always feels good to me when I have conversations that really highlight for me important life stuff-- it gives me the opportunity to clarify and refine and check in with myself through the lens of someone who loves me and wants the best for me. I am very lucky to have a good number of such people in my life-- people who I can trust to nurture my vulnerability and see me at my very lowest and still love and respect me. Who will cut me slack when I'm in so far over my head that I'm barely keeping head above water. I find that the people with which one surrounds themselves says a lot about a person. I am blessed to have strong, honest, active, compassionate, passionate, generous friends who not only have respect for others, but for themselves as well. They don't hesitate to tell me about myself when I'm off the path. This is why they are my friends-- because I trust them to share my life.
I spent most of yesterday hanging with Shaun and Jenny, which is nice, because the more I get to know them, the more I really, really like both of them. I'm glad that Jenny and I are making time for one another, and that hanging with Shaun makes me laugh and mostly gets my mind off of things. However, he did warn me last night that Skyler was thinking of taking lindy classes at the Avalon on Thursday nights. As in, the place that I started swing dancing to get the hell away from him and Becky. The place where I drop in on bellydance classes at the same exact time and then stay for the lindy dance afterwards. It's like wow, dude. Way classy. Not that I didn't expect asshattery like this or anything-- he did the same fucking thing last time, remember? I choose a place to dance away from him, and suddenly he has an interest in dancing there. It's so fucking childish I can't even begin.
It's like he sits at home thinking of all the most fucked up things he could possibly do. Start the break-up process with me less than a week before my birthday? Check. Do it after a night of dancing and sex, on the way to the grocery store? Check. Do it after I'd already told Dixie I was moving out? Check. Neglect to bring my leftover things over when he said he would? Check. Neglect to put in the birthday present he said he had? Check. Request to meet with me to talk, then say virtually nothing? Check. Sleep with the skanky desperate pomeranian who'd been chasing him months before our relationship ended more than once in the week after I moved out? Check, but totally not surprising. Those two deserve one another more than practically any other pair I've ever seen, what with the constant insecurity-driven attention-whoring and such. So what else could he possibly do to make things worse? Oh! Oh! I get it! Now he can totally put himself in the same place as me (in the specific place I'd gone to get away from him) once a week even though this will undoubtedly make things sucky and awkward! PERFECT. Because, you know, nothing says maturity and grace like being an insensitive bastard.
The worst part is he's probably not even planning out how to be an insensitive bastard. It just comes so naturally, and why would he take a minute to worry about something as small and insignificant as other peoples' feelings? I mean gosh golly, it's not like we're his equals or anything. He's a real Man!
I swear. I really wish I could say that I didn't expect this of him. Had you asked me two or three months ago, I wouldn't have. I'd still bought into all of the pretty things he said to get me back, and he seemed to be making some effort, even though the backsliding was evident even then. But now? Wow. Just yeah. Total fucking skeezeball, and I can't believe I wasted so much time and love on him. I suppose that I should be grateful that he showed his true colors so quickly, and I didn't end up spending years with him this time, but damn. I guess it says a lot that when news of our breakup hit, there was an almost unanimous sigh of relief from my friends, family, and even coworkers. Doesn't make it hurt any less, though. I expected so much more. I deserve so much more.
I spent most of yesterday hanging with Shaun and Jenny, which is nice, because the more I get to know them, the more I really, really like both of them. I'm glad that Jenny and I are making time for one another, and that hanging with Shaun makes me laugh and mostly gets my mind off of things. However, he did warn me last night that Skyler was thinking of taking lindy classes at the Avalon on Thursday nights. As in, the place that I started swing dancing to get the hell away from him and Becky. The place where I drop in on bellydance classes at the same exact time and then stay for the lindy dance afterwards. It's like wow, dude. Way classy. Not that I didn't expect asshattery like this or anything-- he did the same fucking thing last time, remember? I choose a place to dance away from him, and suddenly he has an interest in dancing there. It's so fucking childish I can't even begin.
It's like he sits at home thinking of all the most fucked up things he could possibly do. Start the break-up process with me less than a week before my birthday? Check. Do it after a night of dancing and sex, on the way to the grocery store? Check. Do it after I'd already told Dixie I was moving out? Check. Neglect to bring my leftover things over when he said he would? Check. Neglect to put in the birthday present he said he had? Check. Request to meet with me to talk, then say virtually nothing? Check. Sleep with the skanky desperate pomeranian who'd been chasing him months before our relationship ended more than once in the week after I moved out? Check, but totally not surprising. Those two deserve one another more than practically any other pair I've ever seen, what with the constant insecurity-driven attention-whoring and such. So what else could he possibly do to make things worse? Oh! Oh! I get it! Now he can totally put himself in the same place as me (in the specific place I'd gone to get away from him) once a week even though this will undoubtedly make things sucky and awkward! PERFECT. Because, you know, nothing says maturity and grace like being an insensitive bastard.
The worst part is he's probably not even planning out how to be an insensitive bastard. It just comes so naturally, and why would he take a minute to worry about something as small and insignificant as other peoples' feelings? I mean gosh golly, it's not like we're his equals or anything. He's a real Man!
I swear. I really wish I could say that I didn't expect this of him. Had you asked me two or three months ago, I wouldn't have. I'd still bought into all of the pretty things he said to get me back, and he seemed to be making some effort, even though the backsliding was evident even then. But now? Wow. Just yeah. Total fucking skeezeball, and I can't believe I wasted so much time and love on him. I suppose that I should be grateful that he showed his true colors so quickly, and I didn't end up spending years with him this time, but damn. I guess it says a lot that when news of our breakup hit, there was an almost unanimous sigh of relief from my friends, family, and even coworkers. Doesn't make it hurt any less, though. I expected so much more. I deserve so much more.