I feel bipolar today. Or manic, is it mania?
Finally, a spark. A spark of the old me. A spark that got me moving.
The reason is sort of… depressing but complex. But hear me out…
I was driving down the road and remembered that both times that my ex dumped me over not giving him enough sex, both times were because his friend told him to, gave him a “leave her” pep talk. Once in 2002 when we weren’t even a real couple (I was renting a room from him for christ’s sake!) and then this recent time a couple of years ago. And it dawned on me… his friend is an immature, entitled, closeted egomaniac who has always given him bad advice, but my ex always took said bad advice because he looked up to him in some strange, creepy way. My ex worships this guy.
And it hit me… my ex asked me to leave, TWICE, because his closeted, misogynistic buddy told him that he’d be swimming in tail if he finally got rid of me. That I was 100% the problem.
And I laughed. I actually laughed. I’m thinking… he got ADVICE from his HIGH SCHOOL friend regarding a relationship that is TWENTY THREE years old. The fate of my marriage was in the hands of this fucker and it’s hilarious. It’s absolutely pathetic. It’s so pathetic it wraps around itself to be hilarious.
I’m not homophobic. Not even a little. But men who say they are straight but do gay things when they’ve “had a few beers” are suspect. Even more suspect when they are married with kids (And that’s about 1% of men, or 1.65 million dudes in the US). And even MORE suspect when my ex would get a haircut and take a shower prior to every time he went to see this guy AND my ex’s phone would mysteriously run out of battery when he was with him. I don’t know… side eye. I’m just wondering if they’re spooning in a tent when they said they were going fishing. Then coming home and HATING the women they are with. You know, a Tuesday with a beautiful soundtrack.
It’s 2025, just go be gay. Or get an actual beard. Frankly, I would have LOVED being a beard to him! (Call me if you want this, we can stop the divorce!)
My ex is living in the house with all the art, furniture, dishes, flowers, bedding, linens etc that I put in place. And until a year ago, he was putting together, from scratch, a stand up standard arcade video game in our gourmet kitchen. Every room had a project with wires, cables, equipment, battery packs etc. Every single room of that 3600 square ft house looked like a laboratory. But I moved it all to get an appraiser into the house and I had to make it look normal for one hour. It took me a solid WEEK and a team of women helping to get it to look normal. I’m sure it’s back to “his standards”.
Anyway, bring a lady he’s dating into this, into this Cronenberg funhouse, let’s see how this goes. God I wish I was there to witness that mess.
My ex owns one pair of shoes. No, two if you count his house slippers. He is feral. Completely. I really really wish I was around to see this. He likes 19-23 year old women (outwardly, at least) and he’s 47. There is a movie plot in here. Okay… I’ll stop (but there’s SO MUCH MORE).
I digress…. as usual.
So, I got angry today. I got mad. I started cleaning, I did exercises in-between. I’m remembering who I am, how hard I work. How I’ve done impossible things in my life. Example…I made my ex seem normal. So normal in fact, that he thinks he’s going to run out and get a young, hot chick who is going to give him all the sex he desires without her, you know, talking or wanting anything. With his dumb friend cheering him on.
Somehow, this all made me feel better about myself today. That everything worked out for the best. The rejection I felt melted away completely and it was replaced with laughter. This shit is funny. It’s beyond ridiculous.
I can do this. This is the first time in a solid year I have believed it and it feels damn good.
(and sir, if you are reading this… you can’t even be mad at me because that image above is hilarious. I know you miss my sense of humor… but you’ll never say it out loud).
