Replaceable Meat
Boyfriend had an emotional breakdown this weekend.
Basically he announced that he's just a "piece of meat" to me and I can just use him and throw him away whenever I want.
I agreed.
He fucked up a four-year-relationship in many cruel ways (that I’ll try not to rant about but probably will anyway) and I ended it. That's that. I dumped his ass.
I told him I was diagnosed with depression and I'd been having scary thoughts of hurting or killing myself and he disappeared for about two weeks without a word. How's that for 4-years worth of love and sympathy?
Then he gets all upset when I tell him to go to hell and leave him crying and blubbering.
Months later he comes crawling back saying he was under a lot of stress what with going through the Police Academy and some nasty confrontations with his old roommate and family troubles and blah blah blah. Don’t care.
Sad thing is, I didn’t really want our long, fun and crazy relationship to end with a, "I love you. But I hate you more. Goodbye." (Which I thought was slightly better than the "You are the weakest link" line.) So a few months ago we started talking again. Just keeping in touch. Then he asked if we could hang out sometime. And slowly we fell back into the casual stage, which led to the comfortable relationship stage we were used to but hadn’t officially moved back into.
But throughout the last few weeks of casual bliss, there was that anxious feeling that the other shoe would drop and squash my happy daydreams of a slow but thorough reconciliation.
This weekend (Unlike my over-dramatic reaction to the spat we had last week) truly threw any truce we might of had out the window to land in the middle of the street and be ruthlessly crushed by a passing semi hauling mounds of cow manure.
My friends and his met up to have a drink Saturday night. There we were, chatting away when one of Boyfriend’s new little GAY friends I hadn’t yet had the pleasure of meeting, when he asked who I was. I quickly adorned my classic coy smile while I debated how to answer the question.
He said, "Oh so you just started dating Boyfriend?" Hah! I laughed (really loudly) directly into his confused expression.
"No. You really don’t know who I am?" I was curious b/c Boyfriend swore up and down that all he ever did with his friends was pine away for me. Several of them had confirmed this and yet here was one that must have escaped his pitiful mooning.
Boyfriend arrived at that point to interrupt us and introduce me as his girlfriend. Sunshine and Chris, my companions for the night, gave each other the look that is known internationally as the chick’s signal for "Interesting. Noting this for future reference when we collectively retire to the bathroom."
When New Gay Friend seemed to realize I was "that chick," he started trying to intervene on Boyfriend’s behalf and interrogate me (kind of abrasively) on why I wouldn’t just take Boyfriend back.
Boyfriend tried to intervene but at that point I’d started to get pissy. Hey New Gay Friend with incredibly tacky thin facial pubic hair you’re trying to pass off as a mustache! Don’t you fucking judge me!
Boyfriend defended my dumping decision in the typical guy way: Admitting he fucked up but completely belittling the entire situation with a cliched chauvinistic catchphrase, "I wasn’t paying enough attention to her."
At that I laughed. Hard. I laughed so hard people were turning in their seats to see the girl that was ready to piss herself.
New Gay Friend got defensive, "Hey. He’s pouring his heart out here and you’re laughing at him."
"You’re damn right I am." I laughed harder.
Boyfriend was a little flustered but not deterred. He tried again, "I did screw up. Bad. I was really stressed out and just wasn’t giving her the attention she deserved."
At this point Chris snorted, adding to the humiliation of my howls of mirth.
And that’s when Boyfriend gave up and stomped out.
I spent the rest of the night trying to not ruin the mood for Sunshine and DC, who had suddenly sparked their own fledgling romance on the other side of the table. And trying to keep Boyfriend from having an emotional breakdown…which he had anyway.
I tried explaining that he deserved to be laughed at.
I explained very carefully that he in no way deserves for me to ever speak to him again.
I told him it would have served him right if I had killed myself when he left and then came back as a PMS'ing ghost that haunted and guilt-tripped him for the rest of his life.
I tried very politely not to get mad as he apologized and cried. But in the end I did get mad.
Righteous fury is actually a much better phrase for how I felt. I shook my little fists at him and told him everything I had felt when he left. Everything I had wanted to do to him (in vivid detail). Everything I had wanted to do to myself and that it was only fair he be miserable now.
I owed him absolutely nothing.
He is just a piece of meat. Until I’m ready to take him back, until I’m ready to actually have a relationship with his scum-sucking-ass, he is exactly what he thinks he is. Replaceable.
No pretty lies. No sweet promises.
I never told him I would take him back.
I never said I wanted to.
I did however tell him that until he earns back atleast some of the trust he lost when he walked away, I would just assume he’s lying to me.
He cried some more. Which made me ever more mad for dating a pussy for 4-years, while he ranted on and on about how the girl he loves with every part of his heart can’t even pretend to love him back.
And then I repeated the words I said to him on the day I broke it off,
"I do love you. But I hate you more."
And then I said I was tired. He could call me when he’s through with his hissy fit. And went home.
Basically he announced that he's just a "piece of meat" to me and I can just use him and throw him away whenever I want.
I agreed.
He fucked up a four-year-relationship in many cruel ways (that I’ll try not to rant about but probably will anyway) and I ended it. That's that. I dumped his ass.
I told him I was diagnosed with depression and I'd been having scary thoughts of hurting or killing myself and he disappeared for about two weeks without a word. How's that for 4-years worth of love and sympathy?
Then he gets all upset when I tell him to go to hell and leave him crying and blubbering.
Months later he comes crawling back saying he was under a lot of stress what with going through the Police Academy and some nasty confrontations with his old roommate and family troubles and blah blah blah. Don’t care.
Sad thing is, I didn’t really want our long, fun and crazy relationship to end with a, "I love you. But I hate you more. Goodbye." (Which I thought was slightly better than the "You are the weakest link" line.) So a few months ago we started talking again. Just keeping in touch. Then he asked if we could hang out sometime. And slowly we fell back into the casual stage, which led to the comfortable relationship stage we were used to but hadn’t officially moved back into.
But throughout the last few weeks of casual bliss, there was that anxious feeling that the other shoe would drop and squash my happy daydreams of a slow but thorough reconciliation.
This weekend (Unlike my over-dramatic reaction to the spat we had last week) truly threw any truce we might of had out the window to land in the middle of the street and be ruthlessly crushed by a passing semi hauling mounds of cow manure.
My friends and his met up to have a drink Saturday night. There we were, chatting away when one of Boyfriend’s new little GAY friends I hadn’t yet had the pleasure of meeting, when he asked who I was. I quickly adorned my classic coy smile while I debated how to answer the question.
He said, "Oh so you just started dating Boyfriend?" Hah! I laughed (really loudly) directly into his confused expression.
"No. You really don’t know who I am?" I was curious b/c Boyfriend swore up and down that all he ever did with his friends was pine away for me. Several of them had confirmed this and yet here was one that must have escaped his pitiful mooning.
Boyfriend arrived at that point to interrupt us and introduce me as his girlfriend. Sunshine and Chris, my companions for the night, gave each other the look that is known internationally as the chick’s signal for "Interesting. Noting this for future reference when we collectively retire to the bathroom."
When New Gay Friend seemed to realize I was "that chick," he started trying to intervene on Boyfriend’s behalf and interrogate me (kind of abrasively) on why I wouldn’t just take Boyfriend back.
Boyfriend tried to intervene but at that point I’d started to get pissy. Hey New Gay Friend with incredibly tacky thin facial pubic hair you’re trying to pass off as a mustache! Don’t you fucking judge me!
Boyfriend defended my dumping decision in the typical guy way: Admitting he fucked up but completely belittling the entire situation with a cliched chauvinistic catchphrase, "I wasn’t paying enough attention to her."
At that I laughed. Hard. I laughed so hard people were turning in their seats to see the girl that was ready to piss herself.
New Gay Friend got defensive, "Hey. He’s pouring his heart out here and you’re laughing at him."
"You’re damn right I am." I laughed harder.
Boyfriend was a little flustered but not deterred. He tried again, "I did screw up. Bad. I was really stressed out and just wasn’t giving her the attention she deserved."
At this point Chris snorted, adding to the humiliation of my howls of mirth.
And that’s when Boyfriend gave up and stomped out.
I spent the rest of the night trying to not ruin the mood for Sunshine and DC, who had suddenly sparked their own fledgling romance on the other side of the table. And trying to keep Boyfriend from having an emotional breakdown…which he had anyway.
I tried explaining that he deserved to be laughed at.
I explained very carefully that he in no way deserves for me to ever speak to him again.
I told him it would have served him right if I had killed myself when he left and then came back as a PMS'ing ghost that haunted and guilt-tripped him for the rest of his life.
I tried very politely not to get mad as he apologized and cried. But in the end I did get mad.
Righteous fury is actually a much better phrase for how I felt. I shook my little fists at him and told him everything I had felt when he left. Everything I had wanted to do to him (in vivid detail). Everything I had wanted to do to myself and that it was only fair he be miserable now.
I owed him absolutely nothing.
He is just a piece of meat. Until I’m ready to take him back, until I’m ready to actually have a relationship with his scum-sucking-ass, he is exactly what he thinks he is. Replaceable.
No pretty lies. No sweet promises.
I never told him I would take him back.
I never said I wanted to.
I did however tell him that until he earns back atleast some of the trust he lost when he walked away, I would just assume he’s lying to me.
He cried some more. Which made me ever more mad for dating a pussy for 4-years, while he ranted on and on about how the girl he loves with every part of his heart can’t even pretend to love him back.
And then I repeated the words I said to him on the day I broke it off,
"I do love you. But I hate you more."
And then I said I was tired. He could call me when he’s through with his hissy fit. And went home.
Labels: Completely Unrelated Rantings, The Boyfriend (duh Duh DUH)
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on 26.6.06 at 6:03 PM.
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