Wednesday, Oct. 22, 2003 - 10:04 p.m.
Cost of the War in Iraq
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You Deserve Better... What's Your Type?
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"you will go out with me for two years and then dump me for someone else in your hometown"you said.
"I'm not your type... I'm trying to see what is your type... is she your type? you said.
"You said you're a good catch, wench, and you are. You deserve better than me" you said.
"Don't talk about your exes, it hurts when you mention your exes" you said.
Yes, I would have probably gone out with you for two years. Maybe longer. All the time we spent together was good. Relaxed. Really sharing. Opening up, becoming vulnerable, trusting. Laughing, creating together. New things. Experiences, learning. Having a friend in the world. Someone who cared. Someone to wait to share things with. Someone to run to with a joke, an insight, pain that needed care, a new food to try.
Dump you for someone else. I have never dumped someone for someone else. It always takes me so long to get over someone. I can't just bounce back, and it isn't fair to anyone to be the rebound person.
Ironically, it was you who dumped me for someone else. Over and over. Make promises, tell me I was the one. Then leave me alone. For an hour, a night, a weekend, an eternity. Stand me up. For someone else.
No, you were "not my type" in the external, vavoom, turn my head manner. What is my type? Wide shoulders, a swagger, a confident sort of asshole attitude, long hair. But we all know that is like the cover of a book... it can be misleading... or not. Perhaps it covers someone horrid, insecure, nasty. Perhaps it covers someone with whom I have no connection and nothing in common.
I wrote you four pages of paper, both sides full, every line, of the ways that you were my type. Real things about our connection, our interests, your uniqueness, your body, your sense of humour, your passion for issues like the treatment of animals. Real things.
And still, when I had travelled to be with you, packed up my life for half of every month to have you in my life. When I had come back to give you a second chance because you were so important to me, because I loved you so much, that I wanted to travel to another country for three days to work on US, you walked along, ignoring me beside you, wanting you, while you looked over my shoulder left and right, pointing out: "her, is she your type? I am trying to figure out your type", How can you be so so so blind. I was only looking at you. Only at you. Did you ever stop to see where I was looking? Or only where you FEARED I might look?
Yes, I'm a good catch, and yes I deserve better. Do I deserve SOMEONE better? or just do I deserve that you appreciate me, are happy with your catch? Am I to be the shoe that fits you perfectly, that you love, but that you think is "too good" for you , and thus you put me back on the shelf, unworn, watching while you walk away in the superwhore model? Do I deserve someone better? Or do I deserve to be better treated by YOU? If I deserve better, why treat me like shit? If you feel not good enough to drive a ritzy car, is that a reason to leave the car in the drive, rusting in the rain, unwashed, with no gas? Why treat something so badly if you profess it to be so good, so wonderful, so much better than you deserve? That is insane. If it is good, it deserves to be treated well. "Treat your mother like a queen", not "I feel my mother is a queen, and I am not worthy of a queen, so I will desert her". aaagh. Abuse couched in the terms of a compliment and humility.
I mentioned my ex, when you said "oh, you're probably already having dates and seeing someone new", as in "when I broke up with M, I couldnt even play for a year because I was so sad it wasnt him... it will be like that with you too." "I can't stand to hear about your ex" you said. Not, oh, you will value me, you will not just forget me in moments" which is what you shouldve heard. I was talking about not having gotten over YOU.
As for mentioning my ex. Funny. This is the same ex you were perfectly happy with me playing with at the start: "I like a girl who can take care of her own needs" you told me, when I asked how you felt. This is the same ex I didnt have sex or play with since we got at all close you and I. This is the same ex who welcomed you into his home and lent you the talltall boots that you want so much for your own. This is the ex who thought how great you were for me. This is not a threat to you. To our relationship.
As for your exes... it was your ex who packed the tent, lent you the car, that you told me was in love with you still. It seems to be a double standard... you can talk about your ex, but not me about mine. You are still friends with your ex, who is still in love with you.. you still have a house together and see her to give family gifts at christmas. Vs my ex, whom i call on the phone once every month... who has been over me over me for years.
But let's not just talk about feeling jealous of exes. You cringe when I mention something I did with an ex. But you go into submission before me. You ask me to help you dress for a date with an "in the present" not an "ex". Two "in the presents" . To wait while they take priority over me. To listen to her voice on your voicemail. To see her collar around your neck. To delay a bedtime tuckin because She is there with you tonight, despite you asking me to call you.
You cringe at my exes from 1998, while you ask me to live with playdates, photos on the walls, telephone calls and email fantasies, submission at any time in front of my face, sharing living space, with the OTHERS of your choosing, without cringing. How much of a double standard is it possible to maintain?
Is it just possible that you projected every fear you had on me? And every thing you were doing TO me, you projected as a fear onto me... turning your real acts into possible crimes perpetrated against you? You cheat on me, and fear I will cheat on you. You look over my shoulder to the newest model of the year, and fear I am doing the same. You say I deserve better... ie think I will find you lacking, but it is your fear, not my actions. You compare me to those untouchable superdommes and find me lacking, and act like it is I who am comparing YOU to my exes.
Sometimes it wouldve just been a relief to be accused of doing something that would actually be me, not your fantasy of me, who is actually YOU.
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Goodbye Michael. May your next life be kinder to you. - Thursday, Jun. 25, 2009
*inspired by Chaosdaily