My life has become a Bootleg Copy of Sex & the City... PART 1

My life has become a boot leg version of Sex & the City. Long hair, sex column, dysfunctional relationship - only my locks are milk chocolate, not butterscotch, my column is basically non-existent, I live in Poe Dunk Oklahoma and my Mr. Big is more like Mr. Shorty Rock.“         

“Armando** is not like Mr. Big,” Trae interrupted my self-indulgent comparison. “He doesn’t wear designer clothes, probably doesn’t even know what that means, he doesn’t wine and dine you, and really, do I have to keep going.” Trae, my close friend and handsome gay confidant, rolled his eyes and continued drilling my shelf into place. Trae was so over this roller coaster relationship of mine. “Where’s the hammer?” 

 Our conversation about Armando was over. I was devastated with a sprinkling of pathetic. I had renewed my subscription for love a month after my voluntary cancellation. The publication sent me a new, better offer and against my sane judgment I resumed my membership, only to lose my money when the company went bankrupt a month later. Okay, enough of the witty talk, here’s what happened: I left boy. Boy came back. I took boy back. Boy left me. Cold, too. He was on some, “this was fun, but it’s just over” trip. 

Nothing happened. No one technically cheated, no lack of love, it was just simply, over. My tormenting thoughts were in desperate need of regulation; I could only put so much of my mental energy into the state of our affair. What I needed was a fresh perspective. Change my perspective and I automatically change its’ purpose. I had to use my random waterfall of tears, snots, and emotions as a tool for growth.    

“It’s like an addiction, Trae. I’m feigning”, I tried to regain his interest in the topic.                    

“Are we still talking about this?” Trae turned to me abruptly; he was not amused. I had to stop before he clobbered my head with the hammer.                       

“I’m going to start a de-tox. I’ll take care of myself for 10 days and I’ll keep a diary about my experience. Like personal therapy."                    

“Do whatever you need to do, to shut the f%$k up about it.”  And with that my rehab from the little f$%^&r commenced.

DAY 1-----

"So, basically you're telling me he dumped you without dumping you after a year when he left for Med School?!" Joleen is another friend of mine who is "over" my relationship with Armando.

'Well, he was really busy..." There I go defending him again.

"K, You’re not even licking my a$%hole and I would have at least had a break up talk before jumping into something on the INTERNET. How freaking douchey is he?!" She passed me a shot of Crowne; I declined, but quickly reached for it after a moment and show it down. (Oh, yeah--Joleen is really blunt.)

Basically, to save you time and energy... I'm going to sum it up for you. I dated this guy off and on for a year. I absolutely supported him and was 100% there for this kid while he was getting into Med School. Physically, emotionally... you name it I did it. But, it always felt like he kept me at a distance. He never appreciated me the way he should have, so I ended up breaking it off with him for a month. No contact. At all. Eventually, he came back making promises and admitting that he had made a big mistake ever letting me go. So, of course I take him back. Only to be left by him a month later--when he moved to Tulsa to start Med School and A WEEK AND A HALF LATER (without having a break up talk with me) was in a relationship on FACEBOOK with some girl he met the first day of orientation. I had given him my time, emotions, body, and a piece of my heart for a year. AND I TOOK HIM BACK--which just made it worse. To put it simply...I was devastated.

Day 1 was easy. I replayed all the dumb things he had done to me in my head.  I stuck to my plan of action for the day and didn’t call him. I blocked his number from my cell phone, took him and some of his friends off my friend list on Facebook--Side Note: Yes, I know it sounds immature, but I only did it because I didn’t trust myself to not sit at my desk and pine over photos of him. It was for the greater good.-- I trashed all his photos from my desk, and put all his gifts in the garage-sale pile. Except for a purse; I pulled that out at the last minute for self-interested reasons. Everyone seemed shocked at the extent of my heartbreak, not at the break-up itself. But they weren’t there that last month. They don’t understand the trust I had put in him to keep the promises he had made me. At least that‘s what I thought. After a year and a half of struggle I fell in love in four weeks, only to have the rug snatched from under me.        

Maybe this was karma?  I decided to reach out to an ex-boyfriend or two and apologize for my indecent behavior in the past. I had left every single one of them in the same harsh fashion Armando had left me.

I can’t help but wonder how it is possible for one soul to affect me so profusely in such a short amount of time. How does energy get so compressed? In a fit of fantasy therapy I convince myself we have parted ways for the Universe to allow Derek Jeter into my life. Hey, whatever works...

DAY 2----------

Not so good. Sundays suck cock.

I wish I could stop my heart from physically hurting. It’s not just a metaphorical idea; there is a distinct pain in my chest.  I want to crawl out of my skin, but I have nowhere to go.  I am me, and here I am. Insecurities are beginning to surface.           

I called a lifeline in Hawaii, Jamie. Jamie is my clear-headed, logical, loving angel with spunk.  After 3 years of talking every day she also knows me better than most and has offered me the sanest advice.

 “Am I unlovable?” The despair in my voice masked the anger I was equally drenched in.               

“No way! You are the most loveable.” Jamie’s sincerity was evident. I tried to stay focused on how lucky I am to be surrounded by wonderful friends and family.                     

There’s hope.                    

“Jamie, everything reminds me of him.  I can’t where my favorite grey dress without a thinking of the last night we spent together. Even days of the week like, like Sundays,” …… and bathtubs, tanning, tomato plants, the Terminator, science, basketball games, hide & seek, bread pudding, horror films, every freaking song in the world, orange, water, Harry Potter, red, lil wayne, meditation, brunch, hot tubs, avocados, empty parking garages, Dave Matthews Band, my hair, water parks, sunsets, sneakers, sushi, casinos, Einstein, Disney, cotton candy, the arts festival, sangria, grey dresses, Star Wars, the lake,...guacamole, the night sky…..and then my heart dropped.     

God is laughing at me.

“You got to be f&&*n kidding me!"

“Huh?” My soul sister asked on the other line.                         

“I’m driving by his house!"

"You're stalking him, K?!"

“I’m not doing it on purpose. I have drive past it to get to the entrance of my neighborhood!” I hadn’t done it intentionally, but there it was, his house. The house we had done very naughty, but very fun things on, in that favorite grey dress of mine.

“K, think about all the reasons you broke up with him in the first place.” Jamie broke my masochistic daze. “Didn’t he call you a princess once like it was a bad thing?                       

“Yeah…..”                          

“You deserve someone who wants to treat you like a queen and I know you can find that”. I had to start trusting her, and the fates." 

“But I thought he was like, my half-assed knight who needed some training..” Awww crap, here come the tears. I looked over at my stunning friend, Steph, sitting in the passenger seat; I was embarrassed with my lack of self-control. She mouthed the words, “It’s okay. I love you.”         

DAY 3-----------

“I called him eight times.” Even as the words escaped my mouth I cringed.

“K, what are you doing” Drake yelled at me from across the country; I moved the phone from my ear.

“And I text him and emailed him. A couple of times.

“Stop it. Right. Now. Listen to me, your ego is in a ditch somewhere smoking and binge drinking.”

“I hate my ego,” I whined.          

“Then don’t let her win.”             

“But the bitch is stronger than me!” I stuffed my face into the pillow and quickly threw it across the room; Armando’s scent was still on it.  Drake is another sponsor of mine. I am not in AA or NA or OA (though I once was…oh glorious food…). I’m in SPBBLA (Stupid People Blinded by Love Anonymous). And lucky me, rather than one sponsor, I have like four who are always a phone call away.

You are surrounded by love, K. 

“I don’t want him to be happy with anyone. Ever.” I was beginning to annoy myself.        

“God, K. Get a grip. This is good for you. No, this is great. You should be dating other guys”, pause for reflection, “and girls. You always like them girls, K. Live it up.”  With that, I began laughing uncontrollably. And because of this laughter I was able to ascend into a moment of complete unaware bliss.  But those seconds are fleeting when you’re lovesick.    

"Promise me you will not call him."

“I promise.”  I hung up the phone satisfied. My world was beginning to get bigger again. The veil was beginning to slip off and I knew once it was completely lifted, it would be difficult to cover my eyes again.  I no longer wanted to be the victim in the situation. From the day he came back and told me he would never leave me again and I was silly enough to believe we had fallen in love. Maybe we had fallen in love, it’s just that we were both swept up by the waves before either of us had mastered swimming.

TO BE CONTINUEDDDD... :)

Dukes up.

**Of course, I changed his name to save face for his lame ass...