You’re Not the One I Wanted After All.

credit: someecards.com

We all have that one person in our romantic past; the one that was apparently the one. You doodle their name encircled in hearts all over your Intro to Literature notebook and you swear that the sun shines brightly out of their ass. The two of you date for certain amount of time then out of nowhere…

You get dumped for no fucking reason.

Now, your story doesn’t end there because you’re a sadist and consistently go on and off with this person for an extended amount of time, substantially longer than the initial relationship. Well, there are the occasional filler people you would have during your down time but this torturous relationship has become so routine that when it finally stops, you crave it.

Exhibiting mild symptoms of addiction such as obsession, withdrawal and social isolation, people around you are there to have you break that cycle in your life. When you become successful, the littlest of relapse can become detrimental to your entire being, both physically and mentally. Honestly, after going back and forth with this selfish piece of shit for 8 YEARS, I thought that chapter of my life was complete. Like shit bro, I gave you 29.6% of my life, just be like Felicia and go.  For the last 13 months, I was in a great place in my life due to the reduced amount of stress that I was experiencing. Then one night…

He decided to call me at 2am on a Saturday night.

Of course, I was with my girl friends at the closing night of a Midtown bar, 5 Jameson shots deep when I noticed I had a few missed calls. The initial thought was like, he must be dying because he basically told me to go fuck myself the last time we made contact. Normally, I would have my over analytical mindset talk me out of answering those calls, the whiskey induced hornball brain I had decided to take a different approach on the situation. I humoured him because, yes, I was incredibly horny and the last encounter I had been less than promising. After the 2 hour escapade that involved a hot tub, I reverted to the crying, emotional 25-year-old I was when he finally decided to end all romantic ties with me, 2 years before he decided to sever all ties with me.

I never had an outer body experience before this moment and it freaked me out. Must have been the 3 additional shots of Black Label I had when we got together that but that experience was needed. One thing you never want to do is destroy something you had a struggle rebuilding and I was not going to do it to myself again. Arguing with him for another hour before knocking out was mentally exhausting because it rehashed emotions that I wanted gone. Makes me cringe even typing about this right now because I almost damaged the progress I made in the last 13 months.

So when I did the walk of shame home, I texted him, demanding to know the reason why I was contacted out of the blue. Now, if he had been honest and said he wanted to have a booty call, I would have been alright about it but he wouldn’t give me a direct answer. After giving him the proverbial finger, I deleted the text and hope to never hear from him ever again. Even then, that would be too soon.

I never want to be that girl that allows someone to destroy her confidence because she doesn’t feel like anyone wants to be with her. He knew how to fuck with my heartstrings and I finally realized that I don’t need that in my life. No one deserves to have a person undermine their self-esteem. Now, I honestly want to have physical relationships with people with no emotions. Less mess that way and plus, I love making new friends with cute boys.

credit: stupidcupidblog.wordpress.com

Stay Single my Friends,

Melissa

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