every time i run into my ex, it's always the same thing. i get all giggly and happy to see him, make plans with him that he never keeps or even acknowledges, get horribly devastated and depressed -- sometimes even get sick -- and then start to blame myself. i start to wonder what i did wrong. start feeling ugly, fat and unattractive. start running through the relationship highlights in my head and trying to make sense of it all. i really just get all dwelly and can't let go, wondering all the time, "what's wrong with me?" and then it hits me. after dwelling and brooding and crying, after driving past his dad's office, after looking inside every green vw jetta that drives by -- even though, he doesn't even live in austin anymore. after turning into a pathetic, psycho mess, it starts to rise up in me. the fuego. the fire. the raging, storming gust of power that hides, latent and crouching, and then punches its way out without even a warning. wrong with me?!? what the fuck is wrong with him! when did laying it on thick to draw me in, inappropriately propositioning me, making definite plans and completely blowing me off become an acceptable way to treat someone? when did somebody else's jerky actions turn into an excuse to analyze and pick apart my inadequacies? when did hanging out at my bar for hours, being all huggy, coming back to see me the same night, only to then pretend like all is casual become my fucking shortcoming? fuck that!
i know that there are two sides to any relationship dysfuction. i accept the responsibility of letting him think he could get away with his behavior. i'll take it. it's true. all of us girls sometimes have to accept that we were more than just the victims. sometimes we played equal part in the demise of our relationship. but sometimes the simple truth is that your stupid, immature, dumbass ex boyfriend is just a teasing, self-absorbed, selfish jerk that fucked it up all on his own. sometimes your ex just needs to grow the fuck up! it's fair to say that the boy's got problems. deep ones. serious issues, a shitty childhood, unresolved pain, an inability to communicate or deal that has blocked his emotional development and probably stalled out his deep relationships with others. i've read the psychology books. i give him that. i can feel it there everytime i see him. the pain. the loss. the emptiness. a kind of awkwardness and confusion. all hidden in there. and i do really feel for him. but come the fuck on!
there is a point in everyone's life where we take the cards we're dealt. things we had no control over. things that fucked us up. we take these things and we decide to do something with them. as children we have no control over what happens to us. we can't protect ourselves, can't nurture ourselves the way we need to be nurtured, don't know how to take care of ourselves. and if we're not given what we need, we learn to cope in the best way we can and often times develop behaviors that initially protect us, but eventually become dysfunctional ways of dealing. all of this is true. and it's sad. but as adults, we have to learn to take care of ourselves. my friend chris says that once we become adults, our issues become our responsibilty and no one else's, and it's up to us to figure them out and deal with them. our responsibilty. our very own. so fucking deal, ex boyfriend! deal! go to therapy. go to na. get some help. fix your issues, but keep your shit away from me! the fuego's all fired up and it's not done burning. the firey beast is awake and you are no longer safe. watch out! thank god for heat! i'm starting to feel myself again. thank fucking god!!
