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Works for Me

I often heard dating advice from my mother growing up. I grew up watching her date from the age of ten on… and it would not be until I, myself, was married, that she found a mate to spend her days with.

Oddly, I now find myself in this predicament. So I think back to all I heard her say and apply what I can, as we are different, to my own principles and plans… taking the good and leaving the, not so necessarily bad… but what just doesn’t jive on my plane of existence.

One thing I remember her say is… “they always come back.” And what a horror that can be as I’ve lived this myself over the last decade of being a divorcee and even prior to my marriage. They do… often… come back after they have ripped your heart out and driven back and forth over it like you are a fast food wrapper on the pavement with their only thought being… “Neat!!! I popped a ketchup packet and it made an awesome sound!”

I developed my own methods and they lie latent… amidst a fog of shame and despair. Only my closest friends know. I have… created a world where no one wants to return. It is perhaps an illusion that I did not mean to evoke. Just one that has served me well. You see… I… tell them. I tell them what I think of them and all the pain they put me through when they have decided they are done with me. What I have discovered is, that for the uncaring soul… this has the same effect as garlic and holy water does on a vampire.

I do not like to lambast people, in fact, I have much guilt over such follies… but let me ask you… how else is some turd supposed to know what a selfish idiot he has been? I don’t really expect anything from it. They often think it is a plea for us to stay together. It is in fact… NOT. It is a journey into self awareness… which… I know… is not really my business. But if someone hears something enough… maybe they can find the audacity to change it. You never know.

And so… here I sit… with trails of ex lovers behind me who would probably hide behind a telephone pole if they saw me walking down the street… save a few. And here I am… getting phone calls from an ex I did not put in a garbage chute and send down the rabbit hole into why we don’t talk anymore. Frankly… the relationship was too short and ridiculous to go there… so I had left him with a kind, gentle… “I do not want to be treated that way,” and we left it as friends. He is calling me… over a year later… sniffing about to see what’s up. And I say without saying… certainly NOT you. He shall be spared.

Can anyone else out there find the beauty in my alter ego of spew? I used to think I was crazy and running on animal impulse, perhaps immature… knowing… I left that impression on the mindless few who only saw their own egos as pertinent. But I am learning… it works for me.

Works for Me


Portland, United States

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