I was going to wait to write this, but I decided I really just wanted it out and done with. It’s not as fully entertaining as it could be, because I got one story done and my wine hangover kicked in and I’m really tired and need to sleep. (Scout, you may just want to pass on reading this one. Just sayin’.)
So. Post Dude, there was a new boy. We’d known each other for years but were never close. We re-met one weekend last summer and as it has been described – it was gang. busters. We clicked, he was perfectman, he matched my list of needs and ideal things. We had a great time. He threw on the breaks because he “didn’t have time” and because he had too much on his plate.
I continued to be on his side, in his corner. I supported him every time he needed it. (I would link to all the posts that mention something on this, but it’s safe to say that if it involves a guy and was written last fall, it’s about him.)
Today. Through the glory of facebook. There it was. “went from single to in a relationship”.
And then my head exploded.
And rather than crying and hiding. I picked up the phone and shot off a text. Raw and honest. Even sent in a fit of rage, I was still right on it.
“I see you “found time” for a relationship. Just so we are clear. I love you. I have been a wonderful friend to you. I have supported you and been loyal to you. If you ever realize all that I am, look me up. Till then, good luck in all you do.”
Which, in my head pretty much said:
“Fuck you, I see you “found the fucking time” for a fucking relationship with someone who was not me. Just so we are clear, because I have nothing to lose and I’ll be damned if I am going to let this one slide by without laying this shit out on the line. I love you. Which I have never told you before and apparently it took anger to give me the courage to tell you. I have been a wonderful friend to you, all you, all about you. I have supported you and been loyal to you, even when you didn’t do the same for me, I got yelled at by my therapist because of how understanding I have been of you. If you ever realize all that I am because I am fucking hot and brillerz and kind and funny and talented, you look me up and let’s see how hard you decide to work at making me a priority and treating me how I deserve. Till then, good luck in all you do. Oh and fuck you and your relationship.”
His response makes me thinks he didn’t read the actual text, much less the SUBTEXT of the message.
“Thanks. You have been a good friend. Good luck to u too.”
And then my head exploded again.
In the meantime, I had a “date” of sorts last weekend. With someone who I’d been down that road with before, but he had been gently persistent for months and months and I decided, well, perhaps this is something I should look at.
So he came up, we had a good night, he left with plans to return this weekend.
Then he changed his mind and gave a whole bunch of “I paid bills don’t have funds, and also made other plans . . . etc etc. . . have a good weekend.”
Which me being up in subtext today read that as, “I proved I could get you, so fuck off I’m moving on.”
But rather than let this pass I asked “Is this the brushoff?” and his reply was, “Call it what you want! Sorry . . . ”
And then my head exploded. And then I went to Amanda’s and drank wine. Because wine is good and friends are better. Especially when we’re taking one shitty day and making it into a celebration of being a TFB instead of a doormat.