So I guess, since I’ve been MIA for the last couple months I should write an update on what’s been going on. Life has been–well, life. Exciting and uninspired. Truthfully, the last couple months revolved around the boy. You know, the one I was gushing about in previous posts. Back in June things were awesome, wonderful. And I honestly could see a future with him. It seemed like everything I had been missing was finally falling into place.
Let’s cut to three months later, shall we?
Things fell apart. Things hit the fucking fan. I think I started to realize in around August that something was off. But I kept strong, kept trying to make things work. I wore cute lingerie. I watched a shit ton of sports I could care less about, because he wanted to really watch them. I put up with overly drunken nights, and disinterest, and giving him his space all because I believed that maybe if I tried hard enough things would work. He was going through some stuff–not having a place to live being number one. I kept telling myself that if I gave him time to figure all his shit out that maybe, just maybe, things would be good again.
I’m sure you can guess what happened next.
We broke up. The day before my birthday.
Well, that was the second time. The first time had been a few weeks previous when–after being lied too–I flipped. I’m not one to be overly dramatic (okay, maybe that’s a bit of a lie) but I will put up with a lot. However when I try and try and try, and get nothing in return, the bitch in me tends to come out. Of course, I let him back in, I forgave him, I told myself that he knew now he couldn’t just take me for granted. Hell, he even watched Glee with me, and we all know how much of a mess that show is. But of course, things didn’t change for long, and two weeks later it was distance, and space, and stilted conversations. My birthday was the blowing point. I invited him to my celebrations, in which his reply was a simple: “Don’t think I can make it.” No sorry, no I’ll make it up to you. I don’t ask for much, I really don’t. But the least I ask for is someone who will meet me half way. And so I told me, as much as I loved him I just didn’t think I could do this anymore. It hurt to much.
His response? “Yeah, I agree.”
And that was the end of that love story. I won’t even get into the drama when we ran into the bar the other night. Suffice to say, he called me a name that rhymes with “bunt”–all because I didn’t say “hi” to him.
Sometimes I think that this whole relationship thing really isn’t worth it. I’m a romantic at heart, I can’t help it. But after putting so much into relationships, practically a fucking housewife to make him happy, what did it get me? Broken up the day before my birthday. People keep telling me that I just need to keep strong, that eventually life has a way of working out the way you need them to. But I’m still waiting for that. I’m honestly so tired of kissing frogs, of being the wrong girl. I don’t need Prince Charming. I would settle for Prince Not-So-Bad.
But for the love of god, if I kiss one more frog I might just ride that white horse right off a bridge.