Conversation with an Ex

Went like this…

 
 

Him
Hey

 

Me
Hey?

 

Him
You deleted my number?

 

Me
A long time ago

 

Him
I want to see you, it’s been awhile

 

Me
I have a boyfriend

 

Him
So he doesn’t have to know, we can just hangout

 

Me
I’m good I’m not a cheat and I don’t play that game

 

Him
But he doesn’t treat you well

 

Me
Better than you and you don’t know him

 

Him
Give me a chance this time we will go places and do more things

 

Me
You had your chance

 

Him
I miss you and your tight pussy

 

Me
It’s all about sex with you

 

Him
I want to be more

 

Me
What? You love me? You’ve been persistent in contacting me every single day though I blocked your number

 

Him
You’re good

 

Me
In terms of?

 

Him
Everything

 

Me

 

Him
You miss me?

 

Me
No I don’t love you and you don’t really love me either

 

Him
Yeah, let’s make it more

 

Me
I don’t know about that

 

Him
I miss fucking you

 

Me
Find a whore or blowup doll

Things guys don’t quite understand

I just came home, don’t talk to me

Especially joke. Chances are I’m hungry, tired, or miserable. If I was happy, you would know it — then and only then say whatever you want.

 

I can tell you’re looking at me

I get it, it’s normal to look at someone if they appear somewhat attractive, interesting, or weird. You could at least not make it obvious you are looking.

 

If I don’t laugh, I don’t think you’re funny

Just strange or annoying.

 

I can’t look you in the eye

I’m telling you what you want to hear to get you off my back. I’m clearly not interested.

 

If I laugh, I might like you

I’m not going to make the next move, it’s up to you.

 

If I have another man, it shouldn’t stop you

Just because I have a man doesn’t mean I’m going to stay with him forever. There is nothing wrong with us talking, it’s not like we are going to have sex.

 

I didn’t ‘fix’ myself for you

My hair looks good. My clothes look good. I didn’t do it for you, boo. I’m either going somewhere and/or did it for the hell of it — because that is how I am.

I drive by his house

Not by choice

It is the fastest route to get where I am supposed to be

It saves time, money, and energy

I live in the country

If I were to take to fastest route, I would have to drive in my town

to take the highway

I don’t have the time to search for a different method

It would be a waste of my energy

— he’s not that important

 

If he was that important

He wouldn’t have let me go like that

He didn’t like what I wrote in the final text I sent it

I made it clear what I wanted

He rejected but still wanted to be my ‘friend’

‘Friend’ meant fuck buddy

I decided enough was enough and I shot my mouth off

In a second, he was gone

I haven’t heard from since

 

But I get to see his house

when I drive to that city

That place it all happened

That place I hate with a passion

That place I wish I could erase

from my mind

But I can’t

A year later I got the ‘privilege’ of going back there

to study

(I got accepted in all the schools I applied too.

I just had to pick this one, probably because my mother.)

Not what I wanted

But I had no choice

But to sacrifice enormous amounts of money I don’t have

time, energy, and my well-being

 

For what?

What is the point?

 

So I can re-live what happened

again, again, until I go insane?

Or to put him in his cardboard-box shaped house

where he belongs.

He doesn’t belong with his motor vehicles and cars

He is immobile

He is stuck in that place

I am not

I am driving

Dear Loser,

I can’t stand you. Most of the time we are together, you irritate the fuck out of me. I don’t like sitting around watching television all day. That’s all you seem to like to do. If I wanted to stare at a screen, I would sit in front of my laptop.

I can’t speak to you. In person or on the cell phone, it doesn’t matter. If I try to talk to you about something I am thinking or feeling, you try to convince me it is wrong. I know it’s not wrong, but I am not going to argue. I know you can’t handle the truth. For instance, how about that time I told you how annoying your dog was or how much I hated the winter? You had to raise your voice at me, tell me I am stupid, and try to convince me that your views and ways are right and mine are wrong.

We have nothing in common. You know it. I know it. You try to tell me that I need to be more outgoing and friendly like you. Which is funny, because you are not. You like to think you are because you have a loud voice and love to hear yourself talk. You’re right I am not outgoing or friendly. I am not going to go up to some person and start a conversation, that is not me. At least I am not an asshole, hate people, or judge them based of their appearance. I can’t tell you how many times I had to bite my lip when I heard you call someone a dumb nigger, butch dyke, or faggot. The one time I did call you out for you, you told me I was stuck-up. The rest of the night you wanted nothing to do with me.

You are lazy.  You spend most of your free-time sitting in your room playing video games. When you go out, it is to drink. That’s all you do. But, I’m not exactly perfect either. I am in one of those periods of time where money and weather depend on what I do. I can at least say I am doing creative and productive things.

I constantly feel I am not enough. You hardly acknowledge I am in the same room as you. You will put your arm around me when we watch television, that is basically it. You hardly ever kiss me, hug me, or show me any other affection. It must be because I am disgusting, did something wrong, or am unattractive. I could share that this bothers — but in the events it did, it came out as an argument. I don’t like conflict, so I just avoid it. So I stopped arguing, or expressing my thoughts or feelings to you. I no longer see the point. I don’t matter.

I think I am loser. Therefore, I am a loser. There is nothing anyone or anything change do me. I am stuck.

This is a prison sentence. I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want to be with someone I really can’t stand or love. So why am I? Eventually the clock will run out and I will say, “I had enough.” And it is time to move on..