Eowyn, if I didn't know any better I'd say you knew all about love and relationships. Your blog is teeming with advice like compromise, listening to the other persons needs, both working to make it work, etc. I completely agree with you that a couple needs to communicate and strive to understand each other and compromise on issues in order to resolve them.
We never had any problems during the daylight hours. In fact, you were a joy to be with. Your eyes sparkled when I talked to you and I was comfortable with you as my best friend. My days off consisted of us driving to the flea market or having sushi for lunch or any simple adventure from checking out farmers markets, gathering supplies for a new project, or hanging around the homestead working in the yard. Since you weren't working, you would bring me lunch and we would share a few moments in the middle of the day and each morning you kissed me goodbye as I left for work. You had it made. I paid the bills, bought food, and kept you in rum and tobacco. All you had to do was buy a supply once in awhile and give me a few bucks when you felt like it. I put a roof over your head, because you were about to lose yours, and even paid your car insurance.
But night time was the problem. Around 4pm you would start your daily ritual of coffee and rum and by 9pm you stopped using coffee altogether, preferring straight rum by the cupful. I used to be alarmed as I sat downstairs and heard loud crashes telegraphing though the house when you fell off your chair in a drunken stupor. You never seemed to hurt yourself, so I learned to stop worrying. When you finally drank enough, you'd wander into the bedroom and demand food that usually consisted of something I made for dinner hours ago that you never ate because you don't have an appetite when you drink, which was every, single, day. I tried to tell you how anyone who drinks the way you do without eating is going to die. I reminded you, as did your doctor, how your liver can't handle this kind of abuse and booze and hepatitis don't mix. I also reminded you that your nightly, drunken, insane, obnoxious rants about how you hate movies because they aren't real and how Hollywood has lost their soul due to a total lack of morality and how you hate James Taylor because he broke up with Carly Simon and therefore, you refuse to listen to any of his music or watch any films he's in. Drunk girls can be fun if you pick them up on a Saturday night but the same drunken scene, every, single night of the year is overkill and nothing kills romance more than an obnoxious drunk with hepatitis. Although you were still my best friend, the alcohol and the late night fights made the love go away and I told you a long time ago, once it's gone, it's gone for good. But you would NOT compromise on your rum consumption. Say bye bye love.
I tried to compromise by suggesting we drink red wine instead of rum but you wouldn't go for that. I tried to get you to drink sensibly but that never lasted. You're own children tried to make you see what you were doing to yourself and they gave up in disgust. After more than enough late night fights passed I told you we can't live in the same house anymore and I offered to pay your first months rent, the security deposit and I'll even pay for the moving company. All you had to do was find a new place to live. You refused. You had your heels dug in and you weren't going anywhere. I made this offer dozens of times in the past couple years and I still have the check I made out to you for $2,000 just to leave.
All the time this was going on, everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Love and kisses, sunshine and roses, and not a worry in the world. Your facade masked our reality from everyone, which made you look all the more sleazy when everyone found out you and Dave, who you met just hours before, fornicated behind my garage in the pre-dawn hours of July 5th. It wasn't an act of drunken abandon because the liquor ran out hours ago, and before you fucked him you checked the house to make sure no one was awake. Well, I was awake and saw the whole thing and if I didn't say anything you'd still be here, pretending everything is just peachy keen.
My question to you is, if you wanted to leave so bad, why didn't you take me up on my offer and leave sooner? It can't possibly be because you fell in love with Dave. He was clearly a one night stand. He didn't even have a place where you could bang him while I was at work. I was watching him at the party smoking all your cigarettes when you weren't paying attention. He was hitting on at least two other women before he hit on you, but you were the only one to take him up on it. Does Dave love you? Sure, like a glutton loves his lunch. Just like I was your meal ticket, you're his meal ticket and he'll say anything you want to hear and you'll keep up the facade. Yeah, sounds like love to me.
The real question is... What woman wants a guy who hits on another guys girlfriend? What guy wants a woman who fucks someone she doesn't know on her boyfriends lawn while he's in the house? Apparently, each other. That's why you moved out of my house and in with him. Because no one else wants either of you. That, and extreme shame.
And I'm the bad guy. I'm the one with anger issues. I'm the one who made your life so miserable. The reality is I showed remarkable restraint, under the circumstances. Anyone else would've shot you both before you pulled up your pants.
Ya know, I would have preferred you came to me that night and say, "I wanna fuck this guy." At least I would have had a little respect for you.
Angelzwild... What a piece of work. You've been waiting in the wings for Eowyn to leave so you can step right in. You managed to convince me that your past irrational behavior was all because of drugs and since you are off the drugs you're as normal as apple pie. All it took to convince me otherwise was a phone call while we were on IM. The attack you fired at me through email, IM, and phone calls were enough to make me realize it wasn't the drugs... it was YOU. You're just a very fucked up individual who gets her jollies by making crude comments about me on my own blog and glorifying Eowyn for escaping my psychic vampirism and actually make it sound justifiable and rational to fuck a homeless, dirtbag, crack head as the only means of escape. You send the most vile crap to me in every email address you know, only to call up five minutes later and apologize and do it again while you're still talking and telling me your sorry. And you tell me you do this because I didn't send you a "thank you" for some link you emailed me. A half hour after you slam me in a comment, you call to tell me you and two of your friends are coming up to spend the week at my place and I should be happy about that. AS IF! You can't be trusted, you're insincere, you turn on people you call your friends and then wonder why no one likes you. It's a good thing you're agoraphobic and a woman because if you were a man you'd be either in prison or six feet under. Hell, I know at least four woman who would like nothing more than to drive to your house and beat you bloody for being such a vile trouble maker, and they never even met you. From day 1 you never believed one, single thing I ever told you. You believe everyone else, no matter what they say. If Eowyn tells you something about me it's the truth and you act on it. Eowyn is a lot smarter than you are and you're too stupid to realize you're being played. FOOL!
If I have any anger issues it's only with these two pathetic losers who wouldn't know love if it slapped them in the face. One needs love so bad she'll settle for anything. The other is so particular she'll never settle for anything.
Well, I have my freedom and there's many more women out there looking for relationships than guys and I'm not afraid of dying alone, as Angelzwild is so fond of reminding everyone. But these two girls are scared shitless of dying alone, and they have my deepest sympathies.
Now, let's put these dogs to rest.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
Hindsight is a great telescope, and I'm thankful to say it's a great anger filter as well. My comment here will not be a screed, but rather a postscript.
I grant pretty much all of what you say, except for the "multiple offers to buy you out" stuff. Perhaps I was drunk when these offers were made; entirely likely. But I don't remember them. What I remember is wishing with all my flawed self you'd change your mind ... and kicking myself non-stop for not living up to your ideal. I'll grant that perhaps I should have given up long ago; but you meant so much more than that to me. Or so I believed, for ever so long. We Crabs aren't quitters, whatever else we are.
What you don't know how to do is love someone. Remember Mary Ellen telling you you make women crazy? There's why. You don't love them. You love the IDEA of them, and the temporary tactile sensation of them -- but you don't love THEM. The only one you'll ever love is yourself.
*Sigh* ... I don't say this to be vindictive. It's just my own observation.
What kind of woman could love a man like Dave? My kind. We're symbiotic. Sure, a couple of drunks. Addictive types. Haul out yer DSM IV and open to any page. Then call the cops and have us arrested for Being Losers in the First Degree.
But every morning and every night, we show each other how we feel in every way we know how. I haven't laughed, cried, smiled or outright clapped my hands like this in many long ages. Whenever each of us is sick, or sad, the other one puts him/herself second until he/she feels better. My point: Putting the OTHER first works to both's advantage.
And it's my belief you're much too self-contained to ever know how to do this -- but it is the E=mC2 of love and, therefore, perhaps too simple to grasp.
I'd a damn sight rather be a "Loser" and have what I have than sit all alone and smug in the knowledge that I have it "together" better than someone else. (And hurt unsuspecting women one after the other in dreary succession.)
You're right -- best to let sleeping dogs lie. (I'll ignore the backhanded insult.) And you're NOT the "bad guy." There are always two sides to every story.
As for Kate? I can't speak for her -- I have already told her I think it's useless to continue the pointless tit-for-tat you two always seem to do. That is up to you, or her, to discontinue, and not for me to judge.
As for yourself, I choose only to remember the good, and there was much good. I've got no time for anger anymore. Especially if, as you say, I've got "hepatitis" (funny, no symptoms? Lately when I've been sick, it's been a slight recurrence of my former infection, easily treatable with antibiotics. But that's it. No nausea, jaundice, whatever. Oh, well).
Oh, one anger caveat: I don't appreciate dragging my children into the discussion. If you had to use them as ammunition for how badly you think I behaved, e-mail could have sufficed. Pasting them on the internet at large is kind of contemptible. (By the way, neither of them ever liked you. For one thing, you never even said "hello" when they walked into the house. And you don't want to know my father's opinion.)
But aside from that, I can't seem to motivate myself to hold any grudges. There are spasms here and there, but thankfully, fewer and fewer.
So, as Queen of the Losers, I both embrace my self-given title and sincerely hope you get a clue, love-wise. If anyone needs it, it's yourself. And the anger gloves are off, here. I mean it with everything I know how to share. I'll always love you, and DON'T want you unhappy.
But as Abraham Lincoln said, People are about as happy as they want to be.
Where do I start? When Mary Ellen said I make women crazy she was being kind. What's painfully obvious is I seem to attract crazy women. I tend to overlook flaws and see the good in people, and it was this good part of you I fell in love with. It wasn't until you moved in that I realized your Hyde counter-part was part of the package. When I was at work or sleeping you would get shit faced and go through my computer looking for clues, send obnoxious emails to my friends, use my nic on IM and send ignorant comments to people for the purpose of ending friendships or uncovering dirt on me. My ideal was simple. I wanted to sleep with the woman I loved, not her ugly, abusive sister. Was that ideal really too much to ask?
You're correct that I love myself, as should anyone who professes to know anything about love, but you're way off the mark implying I don't, or can't, love someone else. You should talk. After all, you were the one who ended a six year relationship and began a new one the same day with someone you just met. That sounds more like an act of desperation than love. I'll agree that you and Dave indeed have a symbiotic relationship. He needs a place to stay and you need to be with someone. It's the same symbiotic relationship a boy has with his dog. (no pun intended)
Please don't preach to me about knowing anything about love. You talk the talk but can't walk the walk.
Perhaps your hepatitis denial is selective forgetfulness but I still have the note your doctor gave me to give to my doctor to be tested for hep. If I scanned this note and sent it to you you'd still deny it. Don't force me to scan and post it, ok? Besides, you have other STD problems to think about. I saw some of the scags your boyfriend was tapping before you. Do yourself and everyone else a favor and get tested.
I mentioned your kids only because I know how they felt about your drinking and what it was doing to you. Sure, they didn't much care for me from the get go because they saw me as another enabler or substitute dad or whatever but they warmed up after awhile and we always greeted each other when I saw them. As far as your dad goes, I know he liked me and to say otherwise is kind of childish. No doubt your whole family doesn't much care for me, now. I accept that. But something tells me your family won't be as accepting of Dave as they were of me.
I can be happy, sad, hurt, and relieved all at the same time. I'm happy and relieved that I have my house and sanity back. I'm hurt that you so totally disrespected me by not only fucking this crack head on my lawn but choosing to sleep with him afterward on my living room floor, as if the other people sleeping there wouldn't notice. Love IS trust and you annihilated that trust so completely, so permanently that nothing you can possibly say or do can ever justify it. Most importantly, I'm sad that I lost a friend and we'll never share coffee, or talk, or even be in the same room with each other again.
They say when a person drinks their true self emerges. You make yourself out to be the spiritual one, full of wisdom and vocabulary but I've seen your true demon self, up close and personal, and it aint a pretty sight.
Am I happy? You bet I am! I have the best of both worlds. I have my privacy and company whenever I need it. I have more self respect than to cling to the first person I sleep with and I don't have to secure my computer every time I leave the room.
My deepest wish is you get everything you deserve.
I'll leave aside other rebuttals. But family demands a bit more specifics.
Specifically this:
"I mentioned your kids only because I know how they felt about your drinking and what it was doing to you. Sure, they didn't much care for me from the get go because they saw me as another enabler or substitute dad or whatever but they warmed up after awhile and we always greeted each other when I saw them. As far as your dad goes, I know he liked me and to say otherwise is kind of childish. No doubt your whole family doesn't much care for me, now. I accept that. But something tells me your family won't be as accepting of Dave as they were of me."
I shall Fisk:
"I mentioned your kids only because I know how they felt about your drinking and what it was doing to you."
Yep. True. Always an issue, as it was with my own mother.
But I reiterate: MY business. Not the internet audience at large.
"Sure, they didn't much care for me from the get go
[because they sensed you didn't care for them, and you didn't]
"because they saw me as another enabler or substitute dad or whatever"
[Sorry, but no freakin' way -- YOU, a "dad?" Mmm-hmm]
"but they warmed up after awhile and we always greeted each other when I saw them."
[Because that's what they thought their Mom wanted them to think about her boyfriend. You barely acknowledged them. When you did, it was artificial and distant.]
And my Dad? Here is what he said to me, pretty much verbatim, when I told him we broke up: "He was afraid to spend time in the same room as me. I'm a man who judges people by their character and any man who avoids his lady's father is a man who mistrusts himself. If he loved you, he'd have talked with me, and whatever his beliefs, I would have respected him. But I can't trade with a dodger."
Strong stuff, maybe. But pretty true. Makes sense to me, anyway.
And, guess what? WHOMEVER I choose, including yourself, my family accepts. Dave will be very much easier accepted, because guess why?
HE LOVES ME, AND ISN'T AFRAID TO TELL IT, AND SHOW IT. HE IS PROUD OF ME.
My family cares less for his "success" (or lack thereof) than that simple exercise.
Which you never seemed to see the need for.
You should not ought to be surprised.
For someone who wants to leave family out of the discussion, you sure can't keep quiet about it. I made one sentence referring to your kids disapproval of your drinking, which you acknowledged, but you keep throwing your family into these comments complaining how they shouldn't be any part of this dialog. It's obvious who's using your family for cannon fodder in this little tit-for-tat.
Early in the relationship, I had a hard time figuring out who the parent was. From the start, your youngest demanded we not hold hands and both of your kids, on at least one occasion, refused to let you spend the night at my place after a family outing. I know it sounds petty but these are clues and I felt that it was your kids that were cold and distant to me, not the other way around. After all, I have very little in common with teenage girls but I did my best by going to their functions with you, praising them on their accomplishments, giving advice when needed, and providing the best support I could, including cash I never expected to get back. In time, they DID warm up and it wasn't because of anything you said. It was because they saw I was in it for the long haul and you appeared to be happy.
As far as your father goes, what do you expect him to say? You're his blood and he's always going to side with you on every issue. I sat and talked with your father many times about many things and if he had any negative thoughts about me he would have said it right then and there. He's a stand up guy who doesn't pull his punches and to use him in this manner sickens me.
My opinion of your family's acceptance of your new boyfriend still stands. It's not for his lack of "success" they might find disapproval. Success is relative. But they might be a bit disappointed by his lifestyle of drug abuse, illiteracy, and living off the sweat of someone elses brow. In other words, a junkie bum.
Your notions of love trumping all, enough for your extremely literate family to accept him with open arms, is Pollyanna pie-in-the-sky. I had an uphill battle with your kids and they KNEW I loved you, as did the rest of your family.
(I'd love to be a fly on the wall at the next family gathering.)
For someone who finds it distasteful to use family on the internet, you seem to repeatedly break your own rule. The one line where I mentioned your kids should have died right there. It's your constant resurrection of this subject that keeps your family front and center for all to see.
You remind me of someone standing on a street corner, yelling at the top of her lungs, "STOP BLOWING YOUR HORN! YOU'RE MAKING A DAMN FOOL OF YOURSELF", and expect people to pay attention the the car and not the idiot on the corner.
Yes, tit-for-tat grows tiresome really quickly. I hope to leave it behind as quickly.
Here, I'll simply rebut the "using family for points" zinger.
Once family is mentioned at all on the Internet, it's in for a penny, in for a pound. And I'd rather have my "tit-for-tat" rebuttals out there than not.
And "junkie bum" is nothing more than ad hominem. Nothing could be further from the truth. But I'll not elaborate.
By the bye ... neat job on the orgonite howitzer. You're closing in on things, and I'm both intrigued and proud.
"I sat and talked with your father many times about many things and if he had any negative thoughts about me he would have said it right then and there."
Mmm-hmm.
"And "junkie bum" is nothing more than ad hominem. Nothing could be further from the truth. But I'll not elaborate."
A junkie is someone addicted to heroin. I believe crack head drifter is a more apt phrase.
I stand corrected.
Post a Comment