I am so mad right now. It’s funny because I wasn’t mad before and it has literally just hit me. The Ex, Number 29, has put a new picture up on Facebook. It’s the outside of OUR house with his two new vehicles and a boat. OUR FUCKING HOUSE! He tagged Her, The New Bitch, in his photo. That’s not her damn house, it’s mine! As you can probably tell, this is going to be a rant, and I am very sorry in advance for any language this may contain.
How is this shit still bugging me? It’s been over 6 months now. 8 in fact! Why is this still hitting me so godamn hard?
If I saw this guy right now, I would punch him in the face. How dare he? That furniture; that was picked out by ME! That art work on the walls; yeah that was me too, asshole! The way I turned one entire wall in our bedroom into a curtained wall; yup, as you’ve probably guessed – that was all me too! That house screams me. Everything about it is me. How could he tag her in it?
I put my heart and soul into that house. It was the perfect combination of him and me – his need for modern touches, with my need for soft art work and impressive, yet unique, finishes. It was US. How could he make it THEM?
We fought over the interior of that house. I remember the first time we fucked in that bed. The time that I gave him head on the couch with the blinds open in the middle of the afternoon. The time we were both coked up, and he fucked me with a Budweiser bottle on the living room floor. The way I was bent over the kitchen work surface in a maids outfit, waiting for him to come home. The tea light candles that I placed all the way down the stairs, leading to the bathroom when I wanted to give him a romantic bath for two. That hole in the wall I made when I throw his boot at him. The bump on the stairway wall when we couldn’t get the couch in. So many memories. How could he have forgotten? How could he replace me with her?
He can’t have loved me. He wouldn’t rub it in my face that way if he did. He knows full well that I would be stalking his Facebook page, and yet he made THAT picture, tagged with his new girlfriend, his cover picture – the first picture I would see. How could he do that? This breaks my heart that he could be so heartless. I know it’s his Facebook and all, but really? Our house tagged with her in it?
It’s funny because when we broke up, all I could remember was the bad times. Now, all I can remember is the good – him pissing in the corner of the bedroom because he was drunk. That was ridiculously funny. Funnier than it should have been, anyway. I remember being sat on the floor in the living room, playing with my new Louboutin shoes he gave me for my birthday. I remember the way that we used to lay on the couch, me wrapped in my blanket and leaning on him, him playing Call of Duty or some other game, which I used to love just watching him play. Where did all my bad memories go? Why is it that I just remember the good? I cannot believe all of these memories were so easily replaced. He used to tell me that he knew I was “The One”, what happened to that? Did it just disappear? I know when I called him “The One” I truly meant it. And I still do.
I’m so hurt by this guy right now, and his actions. His blatant disrespect for my feelings clearly shows he’s over it already. He made a post on Facebook just a little while ago saying something along the lines of “Did you ever just look at “your past” and go wow! Did I make the right choice!” The punctuation he chose made things rather confusing to me. The exclamation point at the end of the sentence says to me that he’s thinking he most definitely did make the right choice. However, he was never any good at punctuation and this could have just been a typo. I am missing the most important thing though, of course; he doesn’t necessarily mean me! I automatically assumed it was me, of course, and this sent me on a spiral of depression. Why did he make the right choice? Have I got older? Am I ugly? What is so wrong with my life that he would say that? All of these swiftly followed by a side helping of – He must be stalking my Facebook page – he’s still interested in my life!
See what I mean – this guy sends me into a spiral of crazy, to levels I didn’t even know I had within me. Fuck I miss him. How is still having this effect on me? I keep having this constant day dream of him turning up at my door with the news that I have always wanted to hear. It’s never going to happen; when the hell am I going to get over this? My mind seems to have been consumed with My Mr. Grey, and Number 29, with a side order of Number 15, (The Lapdog) who text me the other night, asking me if I had blocked him on Facebook. I had, but that was because of a recent fight, which left me so mad at him, I didn’t even want to have contact with him. When did men become my life? That is a ridiculous question; men have always been the be-all, and end-all of my life. It’s just getting so confusing. That is before we even get to the thought that the guy I couldn’t get rid of could be a compulsive liar. This is another story for another day. My future seems to be with My Mr. Grey, but I can’t get him to commit to it. My past with My Big Love; I just can’t seem to leave it behind. I am in limbo – I’m in the middle of love, lust and hatred. And I fucking hate it. Fuck you Singledom!