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October 28, 2009


Now...when it comes to emoting...I'm not the easiest person to gage "real" feelings from because I could love you so much, truly and completely, and be just as honest about how much I fucking HATE you at the exact same moment...but that's just how I roll.  I used to have a T-shirt that read "51% sweetheart, 49% Bitch, don't push it.", and it's the truth.  Now, I'm not overly keen on admitting to suffering from heart break, but I have been, for months now and I'm finally coming out of it. :) I have been so heart sick that I could completely imagine that a fork in the face or having a bulldozer run over my foot would actually be an improvement and make me feel better than my daily burden.  You girls know what it's like, while we know that we should be over it, have said we are over it...but we're still "waiting".  Every song on the radio comes back to a moment with that person (real or hopeful), and we manage to find a chorus or a statement in it that echoes the sentiment.  We know better, but we still want what just isn't there and still...we wait.
Now, a quick summary of my embarrassing and ridiculous situation is that my baby daddy and I share a home, but have seperate rooms and are specifically orientated to parenting our daughter, who has cerebral palsy and requires our pooled resources.  We aren't "together" together, but we also don't see other people.  As much as I am liberal minded and think that we SHOULD see people, I understand that it's not fair to anyone to do that because we are unable to give priority to people outside of our family and it also complicates and destabilizes an already overly complicated situation.  It's rock/hard place/painful death predicament.  So, when things happen like me always having a bit of a crush on someone and then having said someone sit me down, take my hands and confess years of mutual like...it goes from excited butterflies to rock in pit of stomach because it's too unfair and it makes my mind and heart scramble to find a way to get what I want without giving up what my daughter needs...and that is the impasse.  So...I do the "right" thing and every moment that passes where he's not in my life after that point feels like a torture of nothingness.   Then he fucks off, gets married in some awful random backyard bonanaza and uploads the pics on my birthday.  
I guess it would be different if it had been a decent wedding, him looking dapper in his uniform, a few of our mutual friends (we've all been friends for years and none of them even knew the wedding happned until the pics went up), some decorations...SOMETHING.  But, it was dismal and depressing, with about 12 people there (only his parents and one sibling there for him, everyone else her people who don't even like him). Inside furniture outside, not even simple gardening done.. So....why?  If you just want to get married  because you are just THAT in love and don't care about the ceremony...why do it all if that's what you're going to do?  I don't know.  It doesn't give me any closure because it just doesn't look legitimate.   I know it wasn't his primary concern to give me closure LOL  But, he is supposed to be giving himself, and her, a BEGINNING that doesn't confuse and concern other people LOL  Whatever.
So, I've done what any normal person would do in that situation and sourced a company that will anonymously mail a bucket of gorilla, elephant or cow shit to the happy couple (I asked, but they simply won't mix the gorilla and elephant and name it "Newlywed Bliss Blend", no matter how appropriate it is), and I've also got a file of what proper wedding cakes are supposed to look like and am waiting for this girl from youtube to get back to me about making a "farting on the replica cake" dvd to send. This girl does "cake" farts where she actually videos herself straddling, spreading cheeks and farting the icing off the top of cakes between bouncing on the top of it.  Very erotic. I'd like to mail a burrito kit with the cake DVD in case it makes the couple feel "inspired".  My latest fantasy involves receiving an e-mail from him that reads something like this:
Dear Paige,
I am writing to tell you that I have been shot.  Twice.  Once in the knee cap and once in the face.  The one in the face hurts less because it happened after wild dogs (who were the targets of the shots which have maimed me although all three of them got away without injury), mauled and essentially raped my face for three hours.  They have also eaten up both of my arms up to the elbows, which makes the fact that the pain medication gives me a permaboner which I cannot physically gratify, although I often attempt to try it with my elbow stubs which always seems to result in me falling face first off the bed...you can imagine that is painful.  My sexy wife is divorcing me, which suits me fine since the baby came out black and even before that I had some doubts because she was always "out shopping" and yet never returned with shopping bags.  It is a miserable time, but the only thing that consoles me is the idea of your love, that our two black hearts have melded into one...a fact neither one of us can deny.  I know that I am a self loathing, passive aggressive douche who is insensitive to the feelings of women but fears being alone too much to go any substantial length of time without proposing to/marrying one...I made you laugh, right?  You always thought I was so funny.  I apologize for ignoring you and sabotaging my life just to spite you...but I guess I've always just felt entitled.  I guess I just have no problem being insincere but you can believe me now, because I swear it's not the curse of the fleas of a thousand dead camels that you have placed on my testicles talking here, but I miss you and just wish we could be friends again.  What do you think?"
To which I would respond:
"Who is this?"