House of Sin

Sunday, August 20, 2006

Comings and Goings

In the spirit of "what comes around, goes around", I got bitchslapped about 4 weeks ago. I had it coming, I guess. After 4 years of helping the Ex cheat on her boyfriends, I guess it was my turn, right?

But I'm getting ahead of myself.

--

I broke up with The Ex in January.

For over three years she and I had been on-again, off-again ad infinitum. Upon seeing me after an absence, my friends would ask very quickly "How's things with The Ex?"

The Bastard and The Ex are the stuff of legends, y'see. Long-distance relationship? Check. Other people been involved? Check. Long-term relationship? Check. Enough sparks to light a city on fire? Fucking Check.

We'd met years ago at the summer program. The sparks flew and we never were able to keep our hands to ourselves. Our hearts were shared and shattered more times than I can count.

But I broke up with her in January anyways. It wasn't working, I didn't want to move out-of-state, it didn't feel right, yada yada yada. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

I didn't handle the break-up well. I did it by e-mail, and informed her that all further communication would take place via e-mail. I shut her out of my life and shut her down. Unfortunately, we still had to work together during the summer. So I kept it polite, but cool.

May rolled around, and I decided it was time to actually speak on the phone to her. And like always, the sparks flew again. She was seeing somebody else but that didn't stop us, oh no. We still found time to get away, and fuck around. I enabled her to cheat. I've never been proud of that feeling.

So the summer program rolled around and we were going at it again. Mentally, physically and sexually, our relationship was starting to heat up for the thousandth time.

And then I came back from my day off.
And then I got the word that two of the junior staff were fooling around.
And then I called the Ex down to the office to gossip about it.
And then The Ex confessed that it was HER that was fooling around with one of the staff members.
And then I lost my shit, went back to my house, and started drinking at 10:45 in the morning.

Deep down, I had always wondered if I could trust her. I always wondered if she would do to me, what I had helped her do to her other boyfriends. I'd always been "The Other Man". Now, I'd switched places.

And fuck it all, if it didn't hurt.

My friends came through for me, though. I made some calls - along the lines of "fucking help me, how the fuck do I get through the next three weeks??" - and each of them made me laugh, or smile or gave me a small slice of peace-of-mind pie.

The week after my conversation with The Ex was unpleasant, but we had to work together, and we found a way. More specifically, I was polite and cordial to her, but at the same I was also cold as a popsicle. I gave her as much information as she needed to do her job and no more.

It sucked for both of us, but the moment of freedom when she stormed out of the office at the very end still puts a smile on my face.

--

"You have to be a prick to the very end, don't you?" She snapped.

"A prick? No. I've been polite and calm, and non-confrontational. I mean, I've been waiting for this moment for..." I paused, and smiled. "What do you want?"

She stood there, fuming while smoke came out of her ears.

"What do you want from me?" I asked again. And again. And again.

Finally, she responded.

"Nothing!" She snarled.

"That is the best answer you ever could've given me." I laughed.

"Whatever," She cursed, and stormed out.

--

And then it was all over.

I could go into how I screamed at her, asking how she could do this to me after four years.

I could go into the 90 minutes she spent in my room one night, and I got her off not once, not twice, not thrice, but FOUR times.

I could go into how I told the guy she was screwing around with that I held him just as responsible, and informed him that she and him were "fucking killing me". His response? "I know." Asshole.

I could go into how I bought her a rose during the first week when she wasn't feeling well.

I could go into how I still have brief moments where I miss her.

But mostly, I'm just happy to be free of the whole situation. I've given my number out to three or four different women, the outcomes of which have yet to be determined. I've been smiling and happy, even though I'm temporarily unemployed.

At the end of the day, the program was more important this year than ever before. My number one goal was to make sure it ran smoothly, and by fuck it did. A couple people I work with, who knew about the whole situation, were impressed I was able to stay above the nonsense and work through it.

Fuck, I'm impressed with myself too. And that NEVER happens.

I'm done with her and I'm done with the program. And I couldn't be happier about either.

--

So my summer hiatus is done, and I'm back. More stories to come, I promise. Both the non-fiction, and the fiction, methinks.

Oh yes, it's time to write again.

-- The Bastard.

Posted by The Bastard :: 9:22 PM :: 1 comments