Oh, I mean, I’m not knocking myself there. Honestly, I’m not. I am fucking fabulous and anyone who tells you otherwise is just, I’m sorry, wrong! Was that cocky enough? Seriously, though, let me ’splain. Fuck you, spellcheck! ’splain is so a word, and it’s properly spelled.
My track record is pretty lousy. I mean, really, really, really lousy. We’re talking just epic fail all the way around. I mean, I had a few nice ones, one that I’ll always look back fondly on with a girl I’ll call Jayelle, which was short but sweet, and just didn’t last because we had lots of stuff in common, but way different goals and ideals, and they didn’t mesh. We’ll just highlight the really spectacularly bad ones, and start with the first person I was seriously involved with…
emT: I will give him credit and say that he was not a complete fuckwit.
(WTF Spellcheck! Fuckwit is so a word!) I call him “emT” here because a) he was one [an EMT] and b) his first name started with a T. Like I said, he wasn’t a complete fuckwit. But that’s about all I
can say for him. He was sometimes prone to forgetting super important shit… because mostly he was too preoccupied with himself. He drove a car he seriously couldn’t afford, he will probably be paying that car off for the rest of his natural life. Possibly for significant portions of his Afterlife. He was
not compensating for anything, was probably in need of penis reduction. Ow. Fuck. Er, better yet, let’s not.
DR: No, he wasn’t a doctor. Those just happen to be his initials. Was emotionally abusive and horrifically controlling. Was actually a troll, too. Found out the hard way that he was cheating on me, but at least I got the better Valentine’s gift. A pretty amethyst ring, that yes, I still wear because that fucker also has diamonds on it, and why the hell shouldn’t I at least have gotten something nice out of the deal? She got flowers. She also got an email two weeks later that read, “Hi, you don’t know me very well, but do you know where your boyfriend’s cock has been today? In my mouth.” Probably not the nicest thing I ever did. Maybe someday I’ll actually elaborate on that story, but since it’s not really one of my prouder moments, probably not.
Bane: Fitting nickname, and actually one of his choosing. He had dreams of being involved in Ultimate Fighting & shit like that. Thankfully, I will at least grant that he never hit me. After him mooching off of me for a long time while he “pursued his dream,” I did finally get smart. Laying around playing video games all day is probably not going to get you far no matter what your dream is, but since his only 2 activities EVER were playing games and “training” – meh. “Want to go out with our friends?” “No, I have to train after I beat this level.” Gah. When I finally called it quits with him, (we happened to be 3 blocks from my house, in MY car) he refused to get out of my vehicle, and so I left it and him parked at the, uh, park, and walked my ass to a phone to call Dad to pick me up. Bane did follow after me begging me not to call Dad, but fuck that. Dad was none too impressed with the fuck who wouldn’t get the hell out of my car. I mean, it’s not like I tried to drop him off in Bumfuck, Egypt.
XH: Physically abusive. A real charmer, right up until … You know what? I really am not prepared to cover this one. I’m just not.
Spunk: You know what sucks so hard about this guy? At heart, he’s a good person. Would give you the shirt off his back if you needed it. Would give you the shirt off his back if you simply wanted it. But, it’s not a good enough reason to excuse some other behaviors. It’s not a good enough reason to excuse the fact that he was insanely jealous. It’s not a good enough reason to excuse the fact that he eventually became very obsessive after I broke up with him. Not a good enough reason to excuse the fact that he was still trying to “get in my pants” after we broke up, and after he was seeing someone new…
And after all this, I had basically convinced myself that I didn’t deserve a great person to share my life with. I was so convinced of this that once, it almost completely ruined what I have with KH. There was a significant chunk of time that he refers to as “The Pause” where we didn’t so much as talk to one another… all because I was so scared that I wasn’t “worth it” and that he deserved better; I was damaged goods, and more trouble than he should have to deal with. So convinced that the bottom was going to fall out on me that instead of waiting to see if it did, I kicked it out. Wasn’t it better to know when it was coming, and be prepared, than to get comfortable and then caught off guard?
Believe it or not, though, this is not about dwelling on the past. Rather, it is about learning from the past, and appreciating the present, and looking forward to the future.
I believe I am going to have a wonderful future with KH, and the present is not too shabby at all. 
Here’s to having someone to grow old with. The right someone to grow old with.
August 16th, 2008 | Author: Shelby
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