He Versus I.

Had I not already been neck-deep in the execution of self-sabotaging the thing between me and a particular (possibly) impossible person whom I have been trying to let “court” me, when he opted to get pissed off at me (for the very first time) and wrap yesterday up by dumping me, another Valentine’s Day might have become memorable for all the wrong reasons.

Luckily (and I say luckily with a heavy and exaggerated roll of my eyes), I was well into that familiar, contradictory and counter-productive pattern of “seek-build-destroy” when it all happened – so I wasn’t too heartbroken.

I expect such things anyway, Hell, I create them. I tried to tell this one from the start, too – how we seemed to represent like, Polar Opposites at the end of the day. We have very little in common besides work (yes, we work together) and physical attraction. He literally left me with my mouth hanging open when he asked me to go out with him because I had previously imagined him as a total yuppie that travels for fun (he’s very worldly) with season tickets to the Warriors or whatever. Like many men from “the clean side of the tracks”, he was intrigued by my roughened edges, I suppose.  When I told him that I thought we had nothing in common with each other, he said something like,

“Just let me surprise you on that score.”

A surprise that I am still waiting for…

 

He:

is too normal (he reads the newspaper and drives an SUV)…too well-maintained by scheduled workouts and personal tailors…too condescending without meaning to be…too hopeful and focused on The Big Picture.

I:

am so fucked up in the head that I can’t get close to anyone (the more I want to, the harder it gets to actually let happen)…too unbalanced and paranoid by a lack of human interaction…too defensive without meaning to be…too traumatized to exist outside of One Moment At A Time.

Kneel.

Days…
like today:
I am too low to partake;
my mind’s in rapid decay,
the throb of a headache –

mistakes…
that I’ve made:
stupid things that I’ve said;
serenade a percussion parade,
through the confusion in my head –

evenings…
like this:
make my heart reminisce;
I didn’t know he was built like this,
the King in my castle has been dismissed –

regrets…
that I feel:
fester beneath this raw deal;
the question of what’s even real,
about the man in the boots at which I kneel.

Kneel.

Days…
like today:
I am too low to partake;
my mind’s in rapid decay,
the throb of a headache –

mistakes…
that I’ve made:
stupid things that I’ve said;
serenade a percussion parade,
through the confusion in my head –

evenings…
like this:
make my heart reminisce;
I didn’t know he was built like this,
the King in my castle has been dismissed –

regrets…
that I feel:
fester beneath this raw deal;
the question of what’s even real,
about the man in the boots at which I kneel.

The Empath and the Opportunist – Continued.

NOTE: “The Opportunist” is someone who broke my heart pretty completely about a year ago; someone who I gave too much to, and got little in return from; someone who made it painfully apparent when I failed to present any further opportunity for him that he had no reason to stay.

He showed up on Saturday to watch the fight at the Man Cave with his lifelong friend, my roommate, Dice. I had known he would be coming – they were ALL gonna be coming, I knew (it turned out to be 16 men and 2 women, including myself) watching the fight.
His face told very sad stories immediately upon opening the front door and seeing him: eyes down-turned and swollen, bottom lip protruding out slightly…unable to make any eye contact with me. I knew something was wrong right away – because despite everything we have been through, he has never been unable to look me in the eye. Oddly, before I could even give it any logical thought, I blurted out:
“What’s wrong Opportunist? Is it your Dad?” (Of course I used his real name, though)
He just fell apart right there on the spot. Came unglued altogether. His father has been deteriorating at a sporadic pace from Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s; and has recently become very fearful, paranoid and much like a strange child to his own helpless family. I watched when I was a young girl, as my great-grandmother faded to Alzheimer’s – it undoubtedly broke my great-grandfather’s heart and was the most traumatizing experience that he had ever lived through…I often think he wished he wouldn’t have.
Anyway, the empath in me was alive and well on Saturday; I hugged him, and sat with him, and talked with him for hours – let him talk about the living nightmare that he is currently undertaking in regard to watching his Dad slip away in mind and body. We ended up missing the main event fight altogether because he was obviously in greater need of talking to someone about his Dad. In a house full of his best friends that he’s known since first grade or earlier – I found it striking that it was ME he ended up in the garage with all day and night while none of them bothered to even inquire about his father’s status. I guess that’s just a guy thing, I don’t know. Either way, there we were together.

I Got Your Opportunity RIGHT HERE, Bitch.

“Why don’t you just come over here and watch a movie with me?”

The bitch in me answered aloud in response as I read the text message:

“Because I don’t really feel like becoming your piece of ass for the night, you Narcissistic Fuck…”

Instead of responding with such truths, I instead opted to wait for over an hour before finally replying with:

“I’m good. Thanks.”

The Opportunist doesn’t give up easily when he wants to prove a point to himself; I know this about him, I know him well – we lived together for over a year not long ago, me and him…I believe that he has already somehow managed to forget this reality as a mechanism of his Narcissism; which is okay with me because it only reaffirms everything I have already concluded about who he turned out to be. It confirms the fact that despite everything I once poured into the Opportunist, in his mind – I remain as nothing more than the expendable naked body in his cold bed at night when he’s lonely.
Don’t get me wrong, I am certain that during our time “together”, he was not fucking other women – I know where he slept every night back then. This was pretty much another factor that hurt me deeply at the end of our time “together”, the realization that after being with (only) me for such a chunk of time, he was so able and willing to just pack up and move on without a second thought when he DID decide to fuck someone else. I do not have a drama-queen bone in my body, truly. So when this all went down in flames, I did what I always do when I get abandoned: swallowed down my pain and stepped into the blaze to walk myself through it somehow.
There were no late night call to him, begging him to come back or to see me…there were no discussions with his best friends (who I happen to be closely tied in various contexts) behind his back about what a piece of shit he is…there were no plans to sabotage his newly rekindled love affair with his despicable ex (who just got out of Club Fed for Corporate Fraud). There was just TRUTH. That’s all there is left between me and the Opportunist any more, is the ugly truth of what he is at the end of the day, every day.
I did not ask him to give me this courtesy; I would have (sadly, but in truth) been okay with continuing the bullshit façade that we had going because I have abandonment issues and they affect my love life in these fucked up ways…but he opted to show his ugly face to me…and I had to respond accordingly a that point. He left me no options on that score. We have been apart now for over six months, without contact until recently when he dropped out of nowhere with apologies and offerings; batting his crystal blue eyes with long lashes at me because he knows my weaknesses and he plays on them to an obvious degree.
I am smarter than that; is all I can think of to say to him, after all. I am bigger than that, and deserve much more than to be a meaningless piece of ass. That’s about all I know for sure when it comes to the Opportunist these days. I have recognized.

Why???

Oh my fuck. Why? Why?

Ugggghhhhhh! Why?

Does Anyone Remember “The Opportunist”:

https://americanainjustica.wordpress.com/2014/05/21/rubbish/

https://americanainjustica.wordpress.com/2014/05/29/on-this-door-the-opportunist-knocks/

https://americanainjustica.wordpress.com/2014/04/13/do-not-mistake-my-weakness-for-kindness/

So I just received a text from him – out of the clear blue – after over six months of not a single word – that says:

Bambi,

I don’t know if you still hate me or not. I wish you didn’t. I think about you all the time. I’m so sorry for the way shit went down between us. You made me very happy while we were “together”. I should have told you more about what was going on in my life back then so that you didn’t have to draw your conclusions. So-and-so and I were just friends, still…and nothing else was ever going on between us like I’ve been told you were thinking. I should have reassured you when you asked me to and I’m sorry. I hope you are well.

Opportunist

WTF???!!

If You’re Going Through Hell…

If You're Gong Through Hell...

Keep Going.
-Winston Churchill