REWRITTEN The end of summer

I'm glad a lot of people got to read this blog before I realized that many things I wrote needed to be erased. Did I mention that drunk blogging is far worse than drunk texting. This post needs half the content removed. I'm sober. I've handled the pain and rejection. I should never let myself write in a rage. Maybe, my thought were the truth. Maybe, they were opinions that changed in 24 hours. I will keep as much of this unedited as possible. But, what I wrote was uncalled for and very mean. If someone hurts you, the best possible solution is to kill them with kindness.

I ended things. I realized last night in the worst way that I was being used. I could've kept on fighting for someone to love me back. I gave him 250 days of fucking and he stupidly let me know that he still didn't want to take me on an actual date. I can give out all the damn details of our relationship now that he is gone. I don't have to move this blog some place new simply to hide my thoughts from someone I love. I knew that things would end from day one.. And I thought that the day it ended would make me sad. I'm smiling. I got to be with the boy I loved since I was seven. And I would've loved him till the day that I died, if he wanted me. He doesn't. i can live with that. I am hurt. I also know that I can do better. Sometimes he was an asshole. He's got issues with drinking.. He's sexist. He's racist. He's conceited. He knows how attractive he is. He is rarely humble. Humility in a beautiful man is the sexiest thing in the world.

. He was never going to be with a girl my size. I was getting lectures about weight loss. I will probably lose a ton of weight to prove a point. The thing he doesn't realize, is that so many people like me the way that I am. I'm real. And genuinely, I'm a nice girl. I am smart. I am funny. And I'm strong. Nothing else matters

I'm never going to let myself remember anything good about this guy. (this is a drunken lie, I did lose my memory. I will fight hard to remember every moment we shared) There was too much wrong with what we had. (there was so much right with what I hoped we had.). I have to be honest. I don't like who he is. (Truthfully, we both don't like things about him. He knows he needs to change those things. One of the reasons he doesn't want me involves the fact he isn't happy with himself.)

I ended things in such a kind way. In fact, I kept things funny. I made the focus of my dear john letter on getting my motherfucking broom back. I don't ever let a man know they damaged me. I end things with laughter even when i realize that someone treated me like shit. I know the last message I sent him was the only time that I sounded even vaguely upset. I needed him to know not to knock on my door. I have his entire wardrobe because I was doing his dry cleaning. I want my shit back. He probably wants his clothes. lol. I could remove all his buttons just for shits and giggles. Damn, that would be funny and cathartic.. I'm thinking about doing it. That would piss him off so bad. It could be a reminder that you don't fuck girls you've known a lifetime.. He should remember that I am not a girl who appreciates being kept a secret fuck hole and an underpaid maid.

This whole cycle is a pattern that I don't deserve. He knew going into this that I have not healed from our last friend who made me his maid and had no interest in me as a woman due to my weight. I think I've been a guy's maid and not his girlfriend at least a dozen times. .My mom talked me out of the button removal. She's so angry. Yet she is proud of me for ending something that made me happy because I was not getting what I need. I could sit here and dwell on all the reasons he didn't want me. I refuse to do that. I can think of a hundred reasons why I don't want him. (to be honest, I wouldn't change much. I would hope he changes the amount he relies on alcohol, I would hope he realizes sexism and racism is beneath him. I would hope he could learn how to express emotion better. I would want him to realize his ex girlfriend is not someone he should still be missing.

And to be brutally honest. The sex wasn't always good. (I slammed this post with a bit of information that I will neither confirm or deny. Sometimes, it is a good thing to let a man think he is the best you've ever had and the idea of his touch is orgasmic. Was my pleasure real? The answer is complicated. Sharing the answer is a secret that involves my problems and not his lack of skills. I was drunk writing this and I discussed the situation as if it was his problem, when the problem was me. I can soon look back on things and remember pleasure.) The next sentence has not been altered from the original post...... And he never gave me head. Fuck him. Just for that offense he should lose his buttons.

I am going to sleeep for a few days. I'm hurt. It's bad. I have gotten off anti-psychotics. I have natural sleeep now. I took some antipsychotics a few minutes ago. It's dissolving under my tongue. I will simply be catatonic for about 48 to 72 hours. When I wake up, something strange will have happened. My memory of chris will be wiped clean as if I never knew him. It's a coping mechanism. Seriously, I usually forget the names of men I date when it's over. I put his name in this blog because he never wanted anyone to know about me. I want anyone who knows me in real life to understand that he isn't always a nice guy. He seems nice. He's really conceited and vain sometimes. The word shallow comes to mind. He needs to work on that.

When he responded to my short and sweet dear john message, he made things worse by admitting he took advantage of me. He is very lucky that I am a good woman. I erased personal information about how I could've fucked up his entire existence because I know how easily I could have taken what matters the most to him. I was drunk enough to say what it was and how to find it. That was very wrong for me to do. I fucked up there. Part of what I wrote is true. He should be careful. I am afraid he will meet a woman who realizes how naive he is. I warned him that he needs to change things or risk losing something so valuable it could break him. I think the point of that paragraph was me admitting that I am honest to the core...but he fucked me over...and it crossed my mind to return the favor. I gave out the warning 'if you admit using some woman and hurting her. If you know you've been an asshole...lock your door and hide your shit. He knows that I actually couldn't even keep a dollar bill I found cleaning. He knows that I couldn't steal. I guess it would be amusing if he realized most women would take what they wanted with no hesitation. That's not me being mean. That's me hitting him with a warning I doubt he'll ever read.

(didn't change this part) I beg you guys not to ask me if I'll date you right now because I'm single. I need to be on my own for awhile. That or I need to hop on tinder and fuck local men. I'm going to miss having someone to hang out with. He was my only friend in this town. I can't do long distance relationships. I may reach a point when I take the offers I get seriously. I've been invited to visit almost every country you could imagine. That's a big deal for a girl like me that's never been on an airplane. It might be time to travel when I get through this. It could be time to do real porn. It could be time to do many things. I'm human. I loved him since I was seven. Part of me is always going to love him. If you get my love in the real world, it never goes away. I mourn the people who leave my life. The first step is sleeep. I know my friend request box has been full for a week and I've missed all messages. I promise to log back on and try to be okay when I wake up from this self-induced commma.

I hope you understand that I'm not much fun when I've been hurt. I will try to bounce back into this site like he didn't make me happier than I thought possible. I will try to be positive. I know that for the first time, I have not been a doormat. I quit him. I said goodbye when I found out what he felt about me. He didn't want to take me to a concert even though he'd asked every other person he knew to go with him and he got blown off. It broke my heart when he told me he almost asked a total stranger he met yesterday if he wanted to go. I've been 250 days of fun, sex, cleaning and companionship and he'd rather go with some dude he didn't know. My mom will always swear up and down he's gay. (I left that part in because it amuses me. Seriously, she thinks he's gay).

I admitted that my biggest flaw and my dark side is the fact that I blog. If you take advantage of me, I'll hit the whole damn world with personal information that will make you want to kill me. (I do love this man because I edited this blog and I have no plans for verbal warfare and character annihilation.) There is always a pattern. I get put in the role of a maid and not a girlfriend. I get sick off that shit and walk out. Then I write down everything I can about the guy who hurt me. (For once in my life, I'm taking the high road. His secrets are safe and I will only describe the ways in which he is special. I never thought that I could stop my need for retribution through writing. This is a good sign. I'm a better person than I used to be.) I may wake up with less anger and the ability to keep my mouth shut. (thanks to a seizure in the night, that's exactly what happened) Or I could wake up real fucking mad. (I woke up with no emotion at all. I actually understand exactly what happened. I know what happened was bad communication. He failed to simply say he wasn't ready to see that particular concert with me. He failed to share the fact he would've been sitting beside me as he thought about the women he loved and lost. That dear john letter, was a reminder that 250 days was too damn long to keep me a secret. I had to walk away for being taken advantage of. He had to let me go when I called his bluff. It didn't have to end this way. We fucked up. He gave me the faint glimmer of hope this afternoon that six months to a year from now, we can try being friends. I value any friend far more than I value a lover. When I say that I love him. That love is always going to be more about friendship than sex.)

I don't give a damn if you read this altered post and feel anger that I removed an amusing rant that shouldn't have been written. A blog can always be edited according to what you feel after it has been posted. Sure, I'm hurt and I feel rejected. That hasn't changed. I refuse to be malicious. I refuse to apologize for feeling malicious after I sedated myself with enough antipsychotics to make me enter a psychotic rage. I am getting better one day at a time. I just want to be the best woman I can be. And if that means editing everything I write the day after I post it, then that's what will happen. .