Friday Flashback: Stupid Girl

September 23, 2005
I stumbled upon the original “Comedic Confessions” this week. Was looking through an old CD I have up here that pretty much contains the entire contents of my old PC. I began writing every day in April 2000 as part of my “therapy” with my old therapist. It’s about 54 pages long and . . . well, it’s so awful that I can’t even believe that the author was (is?) me.

First of all – its password protected and the password is my ex-boyfriend’s nickname. So that just gives you a clue, right there.

Reading through it – my first reaction was very intense shame. Then disgust. Then complete sorrow. I went through a few periods where I just wanted to delete the entire thing so that it would be gone forever. Then I thought that maybe someday, someone would need to read it so they wouldn’t feel like they were the only one.

I must tell that from about the age of 7 or so, I have held a string of unrequited love crushes. Some of them lasted for 2 years. Some of them included full-blown stalking. For some reason – I had a tendency to fall in love with men who wanted nothing to do with me and then, upon finding that out, I stayed in love with them.

And so – I’ll pull out a few little gems and expose even more warts – I was 25 years old when I wrote this.

” Today I am as in love with (the ex) as I have ever been. It’s very painful to feel this way and I don’t know what I will do about it. I figured that I would pray a little more and hope for the best. Of course, I know better than to think it will all work out. It’s most likely that it won’t. After all, he is insane- diagnosed and everything.
What does one do when they find themselves in love with someone who is certifiably out of his mind? I just don’t know how to stop loving him. I swear I have tried for years. It’s like an illness that’s gone to the bones now and seeped into my marrow. It seems as though there is nothing left to do but wallow in it for as long as live. Ah- what melodrama!
Last night we went to see Jars of Clay at the Assembly center. I must’ve stared at him for 10 minutes at a time- vainly trying to feed my own thoughts into his brain….Marry me…marry me….”

Oh but it gets worse . . .

”I’ve been pre-suicidal three or four times in the past week. Something goes wrong and suddenly the only though I can think is…I want to die I want to die I want to die. It was really bad Saturday night. I ended up calling (the ex) on his cel phone when I knew I shouldn’t have. Then I ended up bursting into tears when he told me that he was having coffee with his friend Barry and some other girl. I began cross-examining him like a crazy cut-throat attorney about the girl then burst into tears begging him to come over and put his arms around me. His reply- that wasn’t his “job” anymore. He was no longer my “boyfriend” and it wasn’t his responsibility to pick up my pieces anymore.
I was so crazy with rage and tears and panic. After all I had DONE for him!!! How I had stayed by his side- even after I broke up with him! Visited him in the hospital. Went to see him when he was out of his mind at the Holiday Inn at 5 in the morning. Laid next to him and held him for comfort- while he was waiting for the medicine to kick in. What hadn’t I done for him? I hadn’t deserted him or left him alone. Maybe that was what he had wanted. Desertion.
I think I ended up hanging up on him and then of course called the next day to apologize. It’s like he’s got this thing where he just has to be best of friends with me. I personally think that it’s because he can’t let go of me in other ways. So I guess the only solution is to make sure that he gets no “relationship perks” while we are “friends.”

Yeah . . . right.

“I find that I am watching him and analyzing his every move lately- in wonder and fascination. I love him to the point where it could possibly kill me- though I feel like I have no real reason to. He’s quite a boorish person to tell you the truth- not to mention that he is clinically insane.
Anyway- so we ate to our heart’s content and then he began one of his little comedic routines that he sometimes unleashes on me in restaurants and such. This only made me love him all the more. He was so cute and funny and suddenly I had visions of he and I and our little children all laughing hysterically after one of daddy’s little comic routines. Then my thoughts soured as I imagined myself having to tell the children that Daddy had to go away for awhile because he thought he was Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Somebody slap me!

And now for the stupidest part:

“The evening was okay, but many things were said that have haunted me throughout the day. (The ex) and I talked quite candidly about the state of our “relationship purgatory.” We discussed it right in front of some unsuspecting girl named Lydia who had joined us and desperately tried to change the subject over and over again to no avail.
He told me that all of his “feelings” for me were dead and that they’d probably never resurrect themselves. Then he went on some more about life in general and how he had no desire whatsoever to have a relationship with me; that the very thought of having a relationship with me made him physically ill. That he felt as though our three-year relationship was hell and only ruined a great friendship etc. etc. The girl sitting with us was flabbergasted at both the brashness and cruelty of the comments and my smirking, calm and over-confident comebacks.
Somehow I managed to play off all of his horrid confessions with my own little witty barbs such as, “That’s all well and good darling, but you must remember that I have something that you’ll never understand and that is women’s intuition. And I am much smarter than you. So you just run along and think what you will but I know that you love me and you always will, whether you like it or not.” For a moment, I had almost started talking in a phony British accent. The only things I lacked were a tiny lap dog, an ostentatious diamond necklace, and a long black cigarette filter that I could wave about royally.
Lydia eventually left our table and went inside to recover from the horror of it, I’m sure. I went inside to use the bathroom and we spoke for a minute.
“Are you okay?” she asked, her eyes wide.
I laughed as if I had no idea why she would even be asking. “Oh yeah, I’m fine. I’m used to it.”
“My God I don’t know how you can take it. I would’ve run the hell out of here after two comments like his.”
A lump formed in my throat. Oh no! Should I be upset? Should I be freaked out and tormented and running for home? What do other women do with a man like him? Am I a traitor to my sex? I’m a fool. This little girl thinks that I’m a fool. Oh no oh no oh no…”

I could go on – but I won’t. I will say that all of this madness continued on for almost another year. Yes – another year. And I was sleeping with him the entire time as well.

But - I think I finally have come to a “good” conclusion about this.

I’m so grateful to have Chad – someone who truly loves me and is in love with me and tells me so every single day of our lives. I’m so glad he came around when he did. I think he literally saved me from myself. He taught me what it felt like to be truly loved and in turn, it helped me to love myself. And I know that you’re supposed to be “whole” when you finally meet “the one” but I think the fact that I was still a little “botched” and that somehow he gave me a little glue makes it all the more special.

9:04 a.m. ::
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