Monday, February 28, 2011

I Am An Idiot: Ex-GF Edition

I am an idiot in that I put up with far too much crap from my ex-girlfriend.  I can't promise any SFW-ness from this entry.  There may be breasts and vaginas and penises.


My ex, for privacy's sake I will avoid using her real name and instead refer to her as Bitchface, wasn't always deserving of that moniker.  When we first started dating she was sweet and nice and considerate, and hadn't yet had enough time (or maturity) to develop her many personality defects.

Oh, where to begin...

The first mistake I made was dating someone so young.  She was 15 and I was 19 when our relationship began and while the four years itself wasn't a big deal, the fact that she was still in high school and tethered to her parents' rules was.  I should have known right away when her parents expressed trepidation about her coming over to my house that there were going to be problems.  I understand a certain amount of fear and protectiveness in regards to a daughter and her new boyfriend, especially one so young, but not as much as her family showed considering the fact that they had known me and my family for six or seven years.  Having to deal with their bullshit reservations about us hanging out ("I don't like the idea") and her getting kicked off the phone in favor of her younger sister was annoying at best, but really not her fault.

Nor was her parents' insanity.  I actually liked her dad quite a bit, and still do, unfortunately I just have no reason to really see him anymore.  He was strict and a lot of the things you'd expect from an ex-Navy guy, but he was also logical, realistic, and fairly laid back.  Her mother on the other hand...  Now I grew to love her entire family and enjoyed spending time with them for the most part, but man I could never get behind her mother (ewww).  I won't mince words, the woman is batshit insane.  I have my neuroses like anyone else, but they generally don't affect other people.  I'm not a racist, I'm not homophobic, I don't have any weird phobias (cats), I have no desire to visit my parents 4-5 times a week after I move out (sorry mom), I won't let my kid subsist entirely on microwave pizzas (fucking ew), and I won't spit out lies to my kids like "women don't shave down there," and "it's okay to not like oral sex."  No it's fucking not.  Now that wasn't necessarily my exes fault either, but she was a big time enabler.

Now onto the more concrete things.  Like I said, things started off well, we had plenty of time to see each other, she was commited to making time to hang out and I wasn't interested in anything physical beyond kissing.  Probably the first warning sign came after we had been dating for several months and I attended one of her softball tournaments.  There was a break between games and everyone got lunch.  Understandably her teammates wanted to meet me, but she kept waving me away and trying to hide me from them.  I'm weird, I get this, but I'm not a fucking leper.  That probably should have bothered me more than it did.  I should have climbed on top of the picnic table and taken a shit in front of all of them.  But I played the nice guy and shrugged it off.

Then softball began to take over.  I would come home from college on weekends to hang out only to find that most of her time was taken up by practices and conditioning that she'd forgotten to mention and out of an entire weekend, we might get three or four hours together.  That bothered me a lot because I am very committed in relationships.  Look, I hate most people, the fact that I can spend time with someone is a huge testament to their personality and character (yes I realize this is contradictory or ironic or something because of the cunt she was).  Anyways, when I'm in a relationship, I like hanging out, a lot, and I'm very committed to making myself available to my partner.   I'm also very honest and straightforward and thus avoid most of the bullshit mindgames and expect the same, apparently unrealistically.  Moving on...

I think we had been dating around a year when we went to one of her friend's sweet sixteen (dumbest thing ever by the way) parties.  There was dancing, which I was okay with at the time, and we had a lot of fun together.  However some time later her cuntrag friends (more on them later) made some comments about it, probably because we were one of the few couples in attendance and thus somewhat noticeable.  Unfortunately Bitchface lacked the maturity to shrug it off or stand up for herself, and instead took it upon herself to levy an assault on my dancing skills.  Look, I don't like dancing anyways, I think it's fucking pointless, but I could have some fun with it because she enjoyed it.  That changed once she started being a royal cunt about it.  I might have accepted the criticism had she actually had an iota of dancing talent herself.  But I quickly found that every dumb whore thinks she can shake her ass a bit and be god's gift to dancing.  Plus it's kind of hard to dance with someone when they're leaning over literally 5-6 times (no hyperbole) a song to talk to their screechy siren-without-the-allure friends.

Anyways, a few months later at one of her school dances I basically acted like a motionless stripper pole while she whored on me.  Fuck, if I'm going to get bitched at, goodbye effort.  To make matters worse, at one point she had to 'go to the bathroom' and disappeared.  I eventually found her dancing with one of her friends who, similar to Anakin Skywalker being conceived by midi-chlorians, was conceived by venereal diseases.  I should have just socked the guy right there, it would have at least gotten me barred from coming to another dance, but I'm pretty good at keeping my cool.  In spite of all that, the Sabres beat the Blackhawks 3-1 that night so it actually turned out pretty good.

The dances may have been tolerable if not for a few things.  For one, she never took a break, she just wanted to grind for four straight fucking hours.  Fuck that, let's sit, eat and scope out the surprisingly slutty dresses of the rest of the girls...or something.  And her friends were abominations against mankind.  That should have been another warning sign, the fact that out of all her friends, only one was a decent human being...and that girl wasn't a friend, she was a friend.  (I will never understand how girls can call someone they hate a friend.)  The biggest problem was her one friend who we will call Screech, because that's how her voice sounded.  This girl would either pull my ex away while were were dancing to gossip about stupid shit several times a song, or just grab her and run away entirely to fellate hobos in the bathroom or something.  Even during slow dances.  How are you such a waste of a human being that you don't know well enough to leave a couple alone during a slow dance?

One of the last dances I went to was actually a birthday party for one of Bitchface's friends.  Not a sweet sixteen, but for a girl that was in college who "looked really cute."  Woman Translation: Ugly as fuck, but I'll talk her up because I know she isn't as hot as me.  I was just fed up with the stupid dancing so I was like whatever, you go fuck around and I'll eat and text people all night.  At one point I figured I'd take the high road and indulge her in a few dances, but she was having none of it.  She instead suggested I dance with a mutual friend of ours who I'll call Tall Blonde Hottie or TBH.  For as much flak as TBH got about being dumb (a little true), and trailer trash (I can't hate on trailer trash being a bit of that myself), she is a thousand times better person than my ex.  And she's hot.  I played the nice guy and the dancing was pretty innocent and kind of awkward, but I should have grinded the shit out of her and copped a feel of her excellent boobs.  I told you I was an idiot.

For whatever reason, being treated like crap and coming in around fourth or fifth on her list of priorities didn't drive me away.  And it's not like the (completely legal) physical aspect was any reason to stick around.  My ex had hands like an epileptic lumberjack and was completely unwilling to use her mouth.  (Not true anymore from what I hear!)  It could be that though legal, at the time she was still young, inexperienced, and too immature to have any semblance of an adult conversation.  Seriously, she fucking cried when I gently (seriously, very gently) informed her that her out of control bush was not the female norm.  Know what I did when I was told that at her age?  I shaved that fucking shit.  Seriously, grow up.  She also took each sexual suggestion as a personal insult, and yet was also turned off to the idea of my masturbating.  Well if you can't do it right...  On top of this, she was hesitant to give suggestions of her own.  It's stupid to not say anything when someone is hurting you and pretend you like it, right?  Thought so.  She approached sex with as little rationality as possible, ignoring the fact that a majority of people are into oral sex and into bondage and saying they were still "abnormal."  Which is weird because she liked being told what to do.  Hello....D/s...  This is what happens when you try having a rational conversation with an eighteen year old dumbass.  I wish I had punched her in the ovaries so she could never reproduce.

And yet I stayed in the relationship.  Probably the only thing keeping me there at that point was the fear of being alone.  A completely baseless fear as I came to learn after she dumped me that being alone was kind of awesome.  And cheaper come Christmas and birthdaytime.

Things only got worse from there as the time devoted to softball increased.  Six fucking leagues.  School ball, two coach's teams, one tournament team, one fall team, and little league.  That's absurd and a really shitty way to treat your body which is why it was really poetic when she blew out everything in her knee that ended in -CL...twice.  Now I understand that ACL tears are shitty and one of the worst injuries you can sustain as an athlete, but I have never seen someone who claims to be tough whine and bitch and milk an injury as much as she did.  I have friends who have torn their shit and have hardly complained at all.  My current girlfriend amazes me because she suffers from an autoimmune disorder that gives her chronic joint pain and almost never complains.  Bitchface was a giant fucking baby.

Speaking of babies...she had this fucking baby voice that she used on her parents/me when she wanted something.  Aren't you supposed to grow out of that when you're like eight?  I know she was trying to be cute, but it was probably the least cute thing she could have done short of re-enacting two girls, one cup.  I should have beat her for it.

My senior year of college was probably the worst.  She would go weeks without calling, and when I tried to call, I'd get maybe five minutes of conversation out of her while she mindlessly played solitaire on the computer or something.  I don't understand how you can do that to someone you supposedly care about.  Of course when I brought this up, she blamed me.  Should have seen that one coming.  It was even worse when she went on vacations with her family.  I understand that with technology people are perhaps too dependant on being able to contact each other at any given time, but I think not going an entire week and a half with zero contact is a reasonable expectation.

I thought it would be better when she went to college with the parental shackles off and her having a constant internet connection.  I bought the two of us webcams for communicating that we basically never used.  Gotta love sinking $75 into nothing (more on this later).  Not only was she oddly averse to skyping, she didn't want to do anything fun while we were on them...like show me her tits.  Isn't that what webcams are for?  Unfortunately with her introduction to college came her introduction to college stupidity...and alcohol.

At one point early on in the semester she wound up getting drunk and sexually assaulted.  Not only did she refuse to report it, she became friends with the guy like he was some kind of victim.  I actually got to meet him when I went to visit her once and the urge to not get an assault charge won out over the urge to send him to the hospital.  Doing stupid things while drunk became a recurring theme for her as I was subject to a number of drunk dials and tales of other idiocy.  This was doubly retarded as she was well aware of her family's, and her father's history of alcohol abuse.  That's like pissing gas on a fire.  But that was Bitchface in a nutshell, she had absolutely zero willpower to go against what was common and popular.

And yet there's my dumb ass still with her.  Better yet, I was doing a pretty good job of convincing myself I was happy.  Another great time to jump ship was when she told me she was joining a sorority.  Now, I have friends that were in sororities and they are genuine good people.  They are also the exception.  The majority of women in sororities are vapid whores.  It was right up my typical-girl, sheep ex-girlfriend's alley so I wasn't surprised.  Once her roommates got the idea I knew that was it.  Additionally once her one roommate (HOT 90 pound girl with DD tits) broke up with her back-at-home boyfriend, I thought my days might be numbered, but I foolishly ignored these thoughts.

In February of 2009, I thought it would be a brilliant idea to pay for a trip to NYC to commemorate our three year anniversary in spite of the fact that I was beginning to wonder if being in that relationship was the best thing for me.  This involved paying for two $300 dollar nights at a luxury hotel (to be fair, the Grand Hyatt was awesome), 90% of cab fare, and all food expenses.  All in all around $1,000.  The trip was still amazing and I don't regret going, but had I known that she already knew she was going to dump me I would have paid for a lot less of it.

One of the things I wanted to do in NYC was visit the Museum of Sex, which she fought vehemently against.  I eventually won out because fuck you bitch, I'm funding this thing so you're either going to indulge me on bening things, or take a load in the face.  That can sum up her personality pretty effectively.  A horrible aversion to anything that was unique or deviated from the norm.  I don't know if it was insecurities or if she really was that boring, but all she ever wanted to be was a typical makeup-wearing cosmo-sipping, oh-I'm-empowered-because-I-play-a-sport, girly-girl with absolutely nothing interesting about her whatsoever.  All she ever wanted out of college was a bunch of drunken stories to tell like-minded idiots after the fact.  It's a wonder we ever got along at all.  In the later stages of our relationship she had taken to criticizing me harshly for anything she felt was weird, my intelligence, my love of statistics, my love of model trains, anything nerdy, my interest in sex, my interest in BDSM, and a few other things which cut pretty deeply.  The last night we were together in NYC when she badgered me on these things for a good hour (and then started crying, wtf?!).  I really should have kicked her out of the hotel room.  I did get my chance at retribution though as she drunk dialed me a few months after we'd broken up and I just laid into, her pointing out what a spoiled, entitled, immature, waste of a human being she was.  She's been afraid to talk to me since.

That actually wasn't all though.  In spite of knowing we were done before NYC, she didn't break up with me for two full weeks.  Not only that, but she guilted me into buying her something for Valentines Day, knowing she didn't love me anymore.  (Another $75 that I want back.)  Finally, the Buffalo Sabres would come to my rescue.  (And people wonder why I love them so much.)  You see in spite of all that, our relationship was still there.  But there was valentines day, and the day after it, her sorority formal.  Her sorority formal came the day of a Sabres game I had tickets to, and five days after a game I had also attended.  She tried to guilt me into attending, oh lord how she tried.  Fuck.  That.  I'm not traveling to Buffalo, then back to Syracuse, then to Albany, then back to Syracuse, and then to Buffalo and back in a span of five days just to go to a dance I'm going to be miserable at.  Fuck fucking that.  I went to the goddamn game, and even though the Sabres got shut out, it's one of my fondest memories.  I'm pretty sure that skipping out on her lame sorority formal was the last straw and what finally convinced her to dump me...a week later...via Instant Message, (way to grow a spine, whore).

Like a moron I tried to convince her otherwise, and like a cunt she kind of led me on for a few days (to be fair, I should have seen right through the bullshit of "we might get together again someday") before finally realizing that life without Bitchface was going to be pretty sweet.  The aftermath was similarly awesome.  The week after dumping me she was fucking a guy drunk, had the condom break, had to get plan B, and got a urinary tract infection.  Two months after being dumped, I finally got a real blowjob from a girl I knew had liked me that turned out to be much hotter naked than I thought (and had D tits).  As far as I know, she still has problems with alcohol, now has new problems with weed, has been a suspected meth user, added twenty pounds and totaled a car.

Meanwhile in the aftermath I've grown closer to several of my friends, got to feel not only D, but also DD titties, had the time of my life at least a half dozen times over in Buffalo, finished not one, not two, but three novels, and though I'm still living at home and am unemployed, I am the happiest I've ever been.

Plus I'm dating a girl who is a better match for me than I ever thought possible  (Seriously, ticked off every single one of my 13 "must haves" for a partner.  Never thought that would happen.), who is sane, who is intelligent, who is attractive in a way that is perfect for me (short hair for the win), and who is completely honest with me and feels the same way.  Since things have worked out so well in the long run, maybe I'm not so dumb after all.

4 comments:

  1. Hahaha, I don't know why, but I was laughing the entire time reading this. It was awesome.

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  2. your stories like this, even if they have been heard before, are always enjoyable to read.

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