Do you know what I hate the most about being in the midst of my “quarter century life crisis”?
It isn’t the fact that I’m on the other side of being closer to pink flamingos scattered on my front lawn.
It’s not that I have been to university, taken courses, found success in my ventures and still have nothing.
Hell, it’s not even that I still, at times, strongly consider the idea of allowing men three times my age to give me an allowance from time to time – don’t worry Mom, I won’t do it.
The thing I hate the most is the frequent reminder of the god damned choices I continuously make in the realms of romantic relationships. Not even just the choices, but the sole depths of how many “I can be better”s and “If I were ready it would be you”s that I have respectfully chosen to accept, be patient with and ignore the hidden asshole message behind it, regardless of how many BS lessons I have learnt in my twenty-six years of too much life.
And yet somehow it is also my favourite part.
You see, I hate assholes. I do. I see right through them. Why? I suppose I am an asshole too (at least I can admit it, pricks). People tend to take advantage of the weak when they know that they can directly benefit. You see it in sales, you see it in bars, you see it everywhere you go. As I grew up, I learnt that the ways of life are directly affiliated with how much you can get someone else to do the work for you. That’s business babyyyy, or at least that’s what I would hear on a broken record day after day of working in high output establishments.
I am enthused by the freaks and c**ts of this earth. I really am. I have learnt a great deal from paying attention to the bewildering commentary, the “sarcastic” banter and the all-too-promising “You’re doing great sweeties” that have crossed my path. It enlightens me, it teaches an old dog new tricks. After years and years of paying too close of attention to every businessman, every POS man that comes into the restaurant with a new woman each day, every person was a new lesson.
I seem to believe that because of this habit I have, I am less susceptible to fall into the tricks. But this one was a fu**ing DOOZIE. This was the one that chose to rip out my heart and step on it until the blood stopped pumping. This. This was a work of bloody art. I didn’t see it coming. It’s this type of person, of human, that is the farthest from my favourite part. This is the type that I hate the most about being in my late-twenties.
Let me get something really straight first; I am not naive. I am not stupid, n’or am I desperate to feel loved or get married anytime soon (or at all if ever). So when I express to you just how manipulative and narcissistic this being had been, you may never understand just to the extent how I was able to fall in love with the entirely wrong person.
He was my bestfriend, my closest person, the human that became my rock and brought me into his home, around his family events, allowed me to participate in every outing, every fun thing, he’d even be the person that just sat around the house with me and talked. He invested his life into mine, and we grew, we developed, we cared. Looking back, there was never a day when I heard something kind out of his mouth without a fight first. He didn’t say “I love you” day after day, no, he said “I need you, I love you, there’s no-one else I want in my life, don’t leave” mid-fight. When things were good he would ask me to sleep with others to fill his sexual fantasies. He would say “I can’t not have you in my life”, “You’re the only girl I care about” and “I want you to come to dinner with my parents”. His words would later be extremely relevant. You see, they were so perfectly chosen, so perfectly curated, that when we would later argue about our relationship, about his honesty and dedication to being together; it would all come back. “I said I wasn’t ready”, “How would it be just you if you’re f**king other people”, “You can’t just expect to see me whenever you want” (after telling me I can hangout whenever I want, the door is always open MIGHT I ADD), “I have anxiety”.
Actions, words, all of it… All perfectly curated to establish an intense and dominant control over my life not through love, but through the act of never leaving me be. Anywhere from controlling the way I perceived myself, the way our friends thought about me, the way I spoke, the way I acted. I did not realize it. I did not see it. A facade. Fake love. All I could hold on to were the very specific words and efforts he’d put in whenever I was juuuust close enough to the door. I let it happen, I let myself let go and give in to this human because I refused to open my eyes and see just how many similarities he had from all of the men that I so enjoyed watching and learning from in my overtly social job.
So where do I stand now? Well. I’m still trying to sort that out for myself. In this moment, I am angry, I hate a man from the moment he spells “you’re” incorrectly, it’s that simple. A single red flag, a single sign of potential damage, of potential f**k boy. Hell, knowing me I will probably push away any of the good ones as well right now. Thank goodness I have no ability to go to a bar, I’m sure I would not leave that place without some sort of scorn blood shed. Today, this week, next month, and for the remainder of my life on this earth as we know it, I am dedicated to focusing on myself. To paying attention to the things that I promised myself I would never fall in to, to noticing the tricks and narcissistic behaviour I realize so much in men that I am not interested in and to utilize that knowledge to withhold from developing relationships with the wrong people. Not only in romantic relationships, but in friendships. This world is not created for us to hurt, mislead and lie. This world is a beautiful place and I may witness some of the worst, but I believe that there is good, I believe that there is purpose, and I am excited to bring forth further positivity for myself, and for everyone else. But let’s be perfectly honest here, I will still hold on to that tad bit of asshole tendency because really, life is not fun without a little sass.
Good day.
Neesh Media 