“The past is not dead. It isn’t even the past.” – William Faulkner
“Fuck the past.” – davidwraith
I’m done trying to be everybody’s friend. Maybe after all these years of healthy relationships, I’ve gone soft and forgotten what conniving little bitches women can be.
I’m sick of trying to be nice and respect everyone’s fragile feelings. I think I was better off when I was 19 years old and made of ice. Back then, when I felt someone starting to get a rise out of me, I just made a motion with my hand like I was turing down the volume on a radio, and that was it. You could’t shake me. My wife could tell me that she was fucking another guy, or another girl, or my best friend and I all I heard was white noise.
“Ya’ll gonna’ keep fuckin’ around with me and turn me back to the old me.” – Dr. Dre
Twice in the past couple of months, I’ve tried to make nice with long ago girlfriends and both times it’s blown up in my face.
The fist time resulted an a former girlfriend’s current husband leaving a threatening message on my answering machine warning me to stay away from him, his wife and his child.
Then last Sunday at Mokabe’s I ran into my ex from two years ago, Ava.
It started off really cordial and nice all “good to see you – what have you been up to.” But it got ugly, quick. Within minutes it was just like it was when we were together. It was the first time we’d spoken in two years and she just kinda’ blurted out that while she and I were together, she was fucking this crack dealer behind my back and that when we broke up she was pregnant with his kid. As she so eloquently put it, they would go to pay-by-the-hour motels and fuck and he would leave her money.
She’s pregnant again and back in town to get an abortion, her fourth.
I can’t believe that just two and a half years ago, this was someone I thought I was going to spend a significant portion of my life with. I can’t even fathom being involved in some dumb shit like that right now. As fucked up as my life may be at this moment, it’s exponentially less fucked up than it used to be.
Several years ago I used to perform this poem called “Prison Phone.” It asked the question, what kind of guy I was going to be. Would I be the guy with the moderately priced art on his walls who threw good parties, served good wine and told crazy stories about the wild women he dated in his youth. Or would I be sitting in prison visiting room, pressing palms through Plexiglas with some woman I was doing time for. I think I’ve answered that question.
“We ain’t got no love for hoes.” – Snoop Dogg
Stay frosty.
It has been my experience that getting back together with exes is always a bad idea. I have tried it a few times and it always end in a similar way to the original relationship, only much more quickly and usually much much worse. It’s definitely not worth the trouble. I do have a friend to swears that if you go back and just sleep with an ex, it’s not cheating. LOL I think that only counts if it’s just occasional sex with no commitment. That never works for me. If I go back and have sex with an ex – he generally thinks it means we’re getting back together and well, I have already described that nightmare.
sigh….
good luck
Thank you. I’m sure you’re right. My dad told me the same thing and I should have listened to him.
nah, we live and learn.
generally it’s harder to learn the first time when it comes to matters of the heart.
good luck