This shit is insane...
So over the Thanksgiving holiday, I was hanging out with a good friend of mine, and we were talking about relationships.
In particular, we were talking about how my last two girlfriends broke up with me, then got upset with me because I didn't "fight for them."
In my defense, the first girlfriend I didn't want to fight for. She broke up with me, I let her go. It was over. Plus she was cheating on me--I had a good idea at the time she was doing it, I just chose to ignore it. It was confirmed by a friend of hers after our break up. No biggie.
The second girlfriend, though, made her own choices. She broke up with me over the phone and said she was going to look for someplace else to live (we were living together). I asked her not to move out until I got home and we could talk about it (I was away on business at the time). She said she'd think about it.
Long story short, I asked if she wanted to talk about it. She said no, there was nothing to talk about. I asked if she wanted me to move out for some time. She said no, that wouldn't help. I asked her not to sign a short term lease, she said no, it was over. I asked numerous times what the issues were, she said numerous times there was nothing to talk about, it was over.
Finally, I said fuck it, bye. There are way too many women in this world for me to try to make one happy when they won't even tell me what the problem is.
But here's the pisser, about a month after the break up, she comes to my house to pick up the remainder of things and she starts an argument. I told her she could leave because I didn't have to argue with her anymore.
She said, "You know what gets me?"
"What?" I said, sighing. I was so tired.
"You didn't even fight for me." She replied, and left.
What the fuck? She broke up with me. She told me numerous times there was nothing I could do because it was over. She took a year lease when a six month was available (something she told my sister, who told me).
So I told this to Staci (my friend).
Her reply?
"Did you send her flowers?"
"What? No. I mean I used too. But not after she said she wanted to end the relationship."
"Why not?"
"Because she acted like there was nothing I could do. She didn't want to talk about it. Fuck it. I'm not going to beg someone to stay with me."
"You didn't fight for her," Staci said, laughing.
"What the fuck? I asked her at least three times to work it out. She told me at least three times there was nothing to work out. What is wrong with you women?"
"Sometimes we like to test you guys." Staci said.
"Test? How fucking old are you?" I wasn't mad, this was fascinating.
"Test you. To make sure you love us. We want to make sure you mean what you say."
"Oh fuck that," I said. "That's fucking insecure. If someone finds the need to test my sincerity, fuck them. I'll find someone else."
"Maybe, that's why you're single," she said.
"Maybe," I replied.
Fuck, man. I may be single, but at least I don't have drama in my life.
Christ. The first secure woman I find that I'm attracted to, likes to travel, digs horror movies, won't make fun of my pussy-ass cider drink of choice and trusts me without testing me, I'm going to marry.
This shit is insane.
In particular, we were talking about how my last two girlfriends broke up with me, then got upset with me because I didn't "fight for them."
In my defense, the first girlfriend I didn't want to fight for. She broke up with me, I let her go. It was over. Plus she was cheating on me--I had a good idea at the time she was doing it, I just chose to ignore it. It was confirmed by a friend of hers after our break up. No biggie.
The second girlfriend, though, made her own choices. She broke up with me over the phone and said she was going to look for someplace else to live (we were living together). I asked her not to move out until I got home and we could talk about it (I was away on business at the time). She said she'd think about it.
Long story short, I asked if she wanted to talk about it. She said no, there was nothing to talk about. I asked if she wanted me to move out for some time. She said no, that wouldn't help. I asked her not to sign a short term lease, she said no, it was over. I asked numerous times what the issues were, she said numerous times there was nothing to talk about, it was over.
Finally, I said fuck it, bye. There are way too many women in this world for me to try to make one happy when they won't even tell me what the problem is.
But here's the pisser, about a month after the break up, she comes to my house to pick up the remainder of things and she starts an argument. I told her she could leave because I didn't have to argue with her anymore.
She said, "You know what gets me?"
"What?" I said, sighing. I was so tired.
"You didn't even fight for me." She replied, and left.
What the fuck? She broke up with me. She told me numerous times there was nothing I could do because it was over. She took a year lease when a six month was available (something she told my sister, who told me).
So I told this to Staci (my friend).
Her reply?
"Did you send her flowers?"
"What? No. I mean I used too. But not after she said she wanted to end the relationship."
"Why not?"
"Because she acted like there was nothing I could do. She didn't want to talk about it. Fuck it. I'm not going to beg someone to stay with me."
"You didn't fight for her," Staci said, laughing.
"What the fuck? I asked her at least three times to work it out. She told me at least three times there was nothing to work out. What is wrong with you women?"
"Sometimes we like to test you guys." Staci said.
"Test? How fucking old are you?" I wasn't mad, this was fascinating.
"Test you. To make sure you love us. We want to make sure you mean what you say."
"Oh fuck that," I said. "That's fucking insecure. If someone finds the need to test my sincerity, fuck them. I'll find someone else."
"Maybe, that's why you're single," she said.
"Maybe," I replied.
Fuck, man. I may be single, but at least I don't have drama in my life.
Christ. The first secure woman I find that I'm attracted to, likes to travel, digs horror movies, won't make fun of my pussy-ass cider drink of choice and trusts me without testing me, I'm going to marry.
This shit is insane.
Expunged by Stewie at 11/30/2005 09:32:00 PM
11 Comments:
>>Christ. The first secure woman I find that I'm attracted to, likes to travel, digs horror movies, won't make fun of my pussy-ass cider drink of choice and trusts me without testing me, I'm going to marry.
>>
You're gonna have to go gay to find that. Hope you find that special guy!
I guess I'll stay single.
But I'm married already?
norman
Here, here!
They test because they're immature and insecure. And don't bet that the 'testing' will ever stop. I feel sorry for whoever they are with now.
I'm with you, they can save the drama for their mama.
That's tres fucked up. Maybe they read "The Rules" while you weren't looking.
Drama is bad. But cider is good.
Good luck finding anyone, gh3y male or straight female who thinks cider is a manly enough drink.
Wuss.
blonde - i have no shitty friends anymore. the older i get, the less friends i want. i weed out the crap.
norman - too bad. :(
renaldo - exactly.
leslie - whoever wrote that book should be shot. asses.
freak - i take solace in the fact that i held my own drinking vodka with a room full of russians. in russia. yes my drink of choice is wussy, but wuss i am not.
gh3y
That is not a 1337 way to spell it. Stick with ghey, or even gehy, but leave that 3 out.
If you could see me now, I'd be shaking my head and rolling my eyes.
Stop hijacking Stewie's blog.
He hates that shit.
I'm the one who hears about it.
plskthnxbye!
I don't think he minds a hijacking if it in any way mocks you.
On topic:
I hate the stupid games most women play. They do this shit all the time and then they wonder why I got arrested picking up a tranny on 12th Ave. WTFEver.
Er.. nevermind.
Stop hijacking Stewie's blog.
He hates that shit.
I'm the one who hears about it.
plskthnxbye!
Truth be told, Stewie was the one who told me about your faux pas so that I could come and comment on it for him. He hates that shit, and I'm the one who hears about.
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