The things you shouldn't have to know.
Tonight should have been a laid back and relax after a run kind of night. I should have been a good one, considering I just signed up for my favorite race (the Monument Ave 10K in March). But, the fates had to tinker with my relative state of calm . . . And some people can't leave well enough alone. Does anyone remember the last paragraph of this posing.
Here is where I should tell you that no one is allowed to say just be done with it. Yea, you sit in my shoes and not have a single emotion. That is crap. You can be over someone, and then a moment like this will not bring back emotions of love. It will bring out emotions of outright contempt, hatred, and disgust. Not just for him--in this case--but also for me. I should note, that he gifted me a Tiger Army album a few years ago that I still haven't listened too. I got it two days after I encountered him and his now wife in a Starbucks parking lot. It was hours after conversing with me. Why I didn't hit him that day, fall apart, or go ape shit . . . I tend to keep to myself and not make public scenes. Perhaps I should have. Though, he sent the album--a weird form of apology I guess--and I've never been able to listen to it because whenever I start I'm standing in the parking lot again. Yea, I still don't listen to Tiger Army (or a few others) because of him. Today I had told a girlfriend that I thought I might listen to the older albums when I got home. I didn't have them on my iPod, so I was thinking I would do that tonight. Humph. Not anytime soon now. How ironic.
After my midnight run, I answered a couple of messages and saw one that told me to look at something concerning the frequently mentioned Jackass. Here is where I should tell you that I don't want him back, ever. Honestly. Those that know me know this to be true. They also know things that happened that I won't talk about here. I got hurt in the worst way, and if you had any questions on why I don't date this post should fill in those gaps. But . . .
I stupidly looked at what I was told to see. Seriously, I should have never looked. That Jackass, who did this in August, is once again the subject of my anger. Now notice the date of that blog . . .it was 9 August. Our conversation lasted until the early hours of 9 August, with him telling me he missed me and wanted me. Yada, yada, yada. I wrote that blog from my Crackberry in bed. In the afternoon of 9 August I got two more messages from him saying he was in a bad place and sorry. He said to contact him in a few, that he might not respond, and I said I wouldn't bother. In October I had posted a blog about my messaging him about a personal thing that happened (nope, still not talking about it). I bluntly told him that I was only telling him because he was there when things got so awful. I did owe him that. Yea, even amidst the bad he had a few good moments of putting me back together. I then sent him a Lady Antebellum song, which he responded too, and I didn't bother. The song wasn't meant in kind. He had been on my mind, and it summed up things. None-the-less . . .
Tonight/this morning, I found out that he got married. Not an issue. What is a point of contention is that he got married on 9 August. Mere hours after that crap with me: round one and two.
Now why am I pissed? No one likes to know that they were used on the crassest of levels. And, most females and males will tell you that this story ranks as their worst nightmare. No one wants to find out that a lover, or what not, was telling them how much he/she was missed, cared for, and blah, blah, blah hours before the person said "I Do" to someone else. This is the crap of fictionalized romantic comedies, where the ending is always happy with the two getting together. That sure as shit will not happen here. Once again, my life is stranger than fiction. Not to mention, I'm pissed that I even know. I can't even aptly describe this feeling, but I can tell you that it is not good.
Though . . .I can't help but wonder if the Jackass had the part about being faithful removed from the vows. You know, then he wouldn't have to lie when he can't keep it in his pants.
Here is where I should tell you that no one is allowed to say just be done with it. Yea, you sit in my shoes and not have a single emotion. That is crap. You can be over someone, and then a moment like this will not bring back emotions of love. It will bring out emotions of outright contempt, hatred, and disgust. Not just for him--in this case--but also for me. I should note, that he gifted me a Tiger Army album a few years ago that I still haven't listened too. I got it two days after I encountered him and his now wife in a Starbucks parking lot. It was hours after conversing with me. Why I didn't hit him that day, fall apart, or go ape shit . . . I tend to keep to myself and not make public scenes. Perhaps I should have. Though, he sent the album--a weird form of apology I guess--and I've never been able to listen to it because whenever I start I'm standing in the parking lot again. Yea, I still don't listen to Tiger Army (or a few others) because of him. Today I had told a girlfriend that I thought I might listen to the older albums when I got home. I didn't have them on my iPod, so I was thinking I would do that tonight. Humph. Not anytime soon now. How ironic.
After my midnight run, I answered a couple of messages and saw one that told me to look at something concerning the frequently mentioned Jackass. Here is where I should tell you that I don't want him back, ever. Honestly. Those that know me know this to be true. They also know things that happened that I won't talk about here. I got hurt in the worst way, and if you had any questions on why I don't date this post should fill in those gaps. But . . .
I stupidly looked at what I was told to see. Seriously, I should have never looked. That Jackass, who did this in August, is once again the subject of my anger. Now notice the date of that blog . . .it was 9 August. Our conversation lasted until the early hours of 9 August, with him telling me he missed me and wanted me. Yada, yada, yada. I wrote that blog from my Crackberry in bed. In the afternoon of 9 August I got two more messages from him saying he was in a bad place and sorry. He said to contact him in a few, that he might not respond, and I said I wouldn't bother. In October I had posted a blog about my messaging him about a personal thing that happened (nope, still not talking about it). I bluntly told him that I was only telling him because he was there when things got so awful. I did owe him that. Yea, even amidst the bad he had a few good moments of putting me back together. I then sent him a Lady Antebellum song, which he responded too, and I didn't bother. The song wasn't meant in kind. He had been on my mind, and it summed up things. None-the-less . . .
Tonight/this morning, I found out that he got married. Not an issue. What is a point of contention is that he got married on 9 August. Mere hours after that crap with me: round one and two.
Now why am I pissed? No one likes to know that they were used on the crassest of levels. And, most females and males will tell you that this story ranks as their worst nightmare. No one wants to find out that a lover, or what not, was telling them how much he/she was missed, cared for, and blah, blah, blah hours before the person said "I Do" to someone else. This is the crap of fictionalized romantic comedies, where the ending is always happy with the two getting together. That sure as shit will not happen here. Once again, my life is stranger than fiction. Not to mention, I'm pissed that I even know. I can't even aptly describe this feeling, but I can tell you that it is not good.
Though . . .I can't help but wonder if the Jackass had the part about being faithful removed from the vows. You know, then he wouldn't have to lie when he can't keep it in his pants.
Comments
You and I knew that he was getting married, and even if I had known it was that day I still would have said no. Now I know why he was so eager that I move up right then . . .
I just . . . I just don't understand why in the hell someone would do that.