BREATHE...IT'S OVER

Here's the latest drama regarding the saga of "me" and "him."  IT'S OVER!!!  FINALLY!

I know that may sound funny now, after all this time.  But the truth is these past three months have been helacious!  Do I love the asshole?  Sadly, I still do.  But I imagine that will fade rather quickly this time around. 

Out of the blue, about two weeks ago, I got two emails from him.  They were sent at the beginning of my work week so I chose to NOT read them until the work week was done, in the event I got...that's right...let's all say it together...EMOTIONAL. 

Well, having NOT read the emails, I was unaware and unprepared for the first phone call I had received from him in 2 1/2 months.  My walls were waaaaay up high and very thick.  I was less than warm and fuzzy.  I was cautious and slightly cold.  I had NO idea why he was calling me.  I now have an idea, but I didn't have a clue at that time.

He asked how the weather was (so I knew he was back up north).  He wished me a BELATED birthday.  My birthday is in a few days.  In fact, it is 11 days after his.  That faux pas did not set well with me.  This would have been our 5th birthday celebration together.  I know.  It's very difficult to remember something like that, and I should be kinder, gentler, and more forgiving.  Ummm, yeah...NO!

He asked how I was doing.  I said I was okay.  I was still angry and in a decent amount of emotional pain.  I told him he managed to bring out the ugly in me.  He did say he had noticed that.  Things were somewhat cordial at this point.  But turning quickly.  He got a bit pissy.

Then he asked me if he should not have called me.  Hell, I don't even know why he was calling - but I told him he should have called me when he said he was going to.  He immediately got defensive and said that would have been difficult since he had been so sick.  What?  What the hell was he talking about?  I had no idea until later.

Oh, it went even more downhill from there, if possible. 

He then (wrongly) assumed that I wanted us to go our separate ways.  I responded with, "I thought you went your separate way back in November."   Yeah, I wasn't really being easy on him.  He didn't like that much.  Oh well, it was how I felt.   And after the crap he's put me through these past several months, I had every right to be bitchy.  In fact, he should have expected nothing less.

With an attitude he had developed rather quickly, he said, "I'm sorry I called."  I simply said, "I'm sure you are."  I'm pretty sure he was thinking I was going to relent and backtrack and apologize and become softer.  Nope...I just hung up.  I get stubborn just like he does at times.  Should I have hung up on him?  Probably not.  But I wasn't going to beg him to stay on the phone either.  Should he have maybe been more direct and actually TOLD me the purpose of the call?  Yes.  Don't call me after a few months of not even bothering to answer any of my calls and expect ME to guide the conversation.  Don't test the waters.  Use that spine and tell me what you called for.  Yeah, no such luck.

So...I opened the emails.  He missed me.  He hadn't given up on us.  He was finally coming out of his "cave."  Well, maybe I wish I'd have read those first.  Our conversation may have gone differently.  I'll never know. 

I feel kind of bad.  But only kind of.  The second email stated that he was sorry he wasn't calling that night but he was sick to his stomach and was going to bed.  So, he made himself physically ill just thinking about calling me.  But still, I only feel kind of bad.  Think about it.  Calling me was so difficult for him, yet he worked up the courage to do it.  Yet he never told me why he was calling.  And he's made me feel pretty crappy for quite some time now, so my sympathy for him was not as strong as maybe it could have been.  Does any of that make sense?  Oh, who cares.  It's my story.

I did try to call later to apologize for hanging up.  He had already gone back into his cave, I guess.  He had already resorted to avoidance.  God, he is so flippin' frustrating!  I tried a few more times and sent a few emails.  I was really getting tired of it all.   His immaturity is completely exhausting.  And it fuels mine.

So, fast forward two weeks.  I get an email from him asking me to not call him anymore.  He said I cannot make him love me.  Huh?  I thought he did love me because that's what he told me.  But I certainly was not trying to make him love me.  I may have been trying to make him respond to me, but I have no interest in trying to make a man love me.  Nor do I have any desire to be with a man who does not love me.  And now I know.  He does not love me.  He wishes he did...it would make life easier (???) but he does not.  Sorry.

What the fuck?  It was like a short Dr. Seuss story minus the rhyme.

His email has been blocked and his number purged from my phone.  I have, in a sense, deleted him from my life.  The memories will fade in time.  What a total waste of time these past three months have been.  Game over.

On the bright sde, I will NEVER have to hear him use the term "share toy" again.  Story for another day.

50 SHADES OF WASTE OF MY TIME

So I heard all the fuss about E. L. James' "50 Shades of Grey."  Well, who hasn't, right?  As luck would have it, one of the ladies I work with was just finishing up the book and told me she'd lend it to me as soon as she was done with it.
I'm a big reader and can go through a good book super fast.  I look forward to indulging that simple pleasure for about 20 minutes or so almost nightly before I go to sleep. 

Anyway, she lends me the book and I start in on it that night.  I cheated though.  I read several of the online reviews before I borrowed it.  The reviews mostly said the book was awful, but I figured I'd give it a shot and make up my own mind.

Well, what a seriously stupid effing book it turned out to be.  A complete and total waste of my time.  Thank God I didn't pay for that crap.  I did read up to, and including, the much talked about Chapter 8...well, I merely skimmed Chapter 8, it was so retarded I couldn't bear to read every stupid word of it.  Or even one more.

First off, I could not get beyond the utter Britishness of the main female character - yes, the author is from London or somewhere where they are British.  Problem is, the main female character is supposed to be from somewhere like Georgia, I think, where they are not at all British.  And she is living in the Pacific Northwest, which is not a particularly British-speaking part of the United States, is it?  At least not when last I visited.  I tried my best to relocate, in my mind, the story to a London town, of which I've been to exactly none.  It made it difficult for me to see this story in my head, as I like to do when I read a good book.

And then, the plot (term used extremely loosely) of the story is so lame.  Young plain'ish looking virgin just entering the real world meets slightly older gorgeous hunk of a humanitarian billionaire man who never works and all they do is fuck (blushing).  That's about all I know.  Maybe there is no plot or storyline.  It was just too stupid for me to read anymore of it.

I didn't spend a dime of my money on it and not too much of my time, thankfully.  And this was actually the first book in the Trilogy of Trash!  Yes, there are two others out there!  Lord help us - there must be a world of sex-starved, low-readers out there.  This really is an awful book.  Most of the reviews were "spot on" accurate!