It’s been nearly three years… and I’M BACK BITCHES… and I’m
back with a vengeance. A lot has change in my life over the years. I’ve gained
some weight, lost some weight, gained some pets, lost some pets, gained some
friends, lost some friends, gained some friends again… and most importantly,
the reason I’m here… I lost what I attributed to be the “love of my life.” The
love of my life in a very selfish, asshole moment suggested that I distract
myself from my pain by blogging again… Well, little does he know… HERE I
AM?!?!?!
Maybe I’m just a hugeeee vagina, but I’m miserable. Our
relationship was far from perfect, but what relationship is. However, we were
best friends. I’m sure that everyone says that, but I mean we were. We were
never short on laughter; we were never short on fun. When the times were tough,
they were tough, but when I thought things were getting better… boom… these
cycles.
Do you remember that game you played when you were a kid
with the flower petals, “he loves me… he loves me not?” WELCOME TO MY LIFE.
I dealt with it… until I couldn’t deal with it… until I
couldn’t think of ways to work on our relationship. I fought so hard for us.
Key word…. I. To this day, he swears, “he fought for 2 years…”
No.
No.
Sorry. You told me you didn’t love me and you walked out on
our fur kids, your “stepdaughter,” and myself and then let me console you when
you were upset about it, but the second I needed support, I should write a
fucking blog about it… well here you go… HERE’S YOUR FUCKING BLOG.
So, how does someone tell you they don’t love you and then
break down repeatedly about it? How does someone tell you they need space to
figure out how they feel about you? If it is hurting you, obviously you fucking
care… DING DING DING. WINNER, WINNER- LOVE DINNER? Or no love… because by the
time that dinner is ready to be served… I’ll already be eating dessert with
someone else because I’m amazing. I deserve someone who realizes that. I
deserve someone who doesn’t need to abandon our family to decide if they love
me. I may be crying. I may be pathetic, and I may still be in love with you,
but I know my worth. I just haven’t found my big girl panties yet—I’m still
working on cleaning up the piles of laundry that I’ve been left with.
