I heard this week that my 'ex-boyfriend' got married. I write that term as I'm making air fingers to emphasise exactly how loose that term becomes once someone reveals themselves to be a goddamn manipulative, cheating, selfish, duplicitous, delusional waste of space who put you through hell for what wasn't even a real relationship afterall. So it's pretty clear I don't have any lingering romantic feelings for Smug Cheating Bastard (SCB), and I'm in full understanding of what an evil person he is, but the news that he actually got married still makes me feel really... mad? Bad? Sad? 'Nauseous' is the word I'm looking for.
The trouble was that when I met SCB I had no self-esteem (still a problem) and was so amazed that anyone had taken an interest in me that I shut everything else out and jumped head first into a huge mistake. Looking back I don't know whatever possessed me to think that a short, sleazy, greying man 10 years older than me would be a good boyfriend, particularly given that we also worked together, which is seldom anything but a fast track to disaster.
I wonder sometimes about things I could have done differently in my life that might have protected me from falling into a trap set by someone like SCB. I went to an all girls high school, had ugly freckles and frizzy, nasty hair. I didn't go to any parties until my last year at school because the group I was in didn't have any parties to go to, which meant that I didn't meet many guys at all, not that I would have been able to speak to one if I met him. My self-esteem was so bad that when my sister bought me some makeup for my birthday one year I couldn't bring myself to start wearing it for fear that people would look at me and think it was ridiculous that I should make the effort at all. SCBs live for girls like me. What I wonder, though, is if I had given Robert Marshall my correct phone number at the end of Grade 6 (instead of a fake one given in fear of a boy ACTUALLY calling me) if I might have ended up with a boyfriend like all the cool girls, and avoided seeing myself as some kind of troll living under a bridge and being totally undeserving of being liked. And it was true, Robert did have a crush on me, I was the only girl in school allowed to use his walkie talkies. Yep, you heard right. Walkie talkies. I'm sure it was true love. Or a convenient excuse, anyway.
The trouble was that when I met SCB I had no self-esteem (still a problem) and was so amazed that anyone had taken an interest in me that I shut everything else out and jumped head first into a huge mistake. Looking back I don't know whatever possessed me to think that a short, sleazy, greying man 10 years older than me would be a good boyfriend, particularly given that we also worked together, which is seldom anything but a fast track to disaster.
I wonder sometimes about things I could have done differently in my life that might have protected me from falling into a trap set by someone like SCB. I went to an all girls high school, had ugly freckles and frizzy, nasty hair. I didn't go to any parties until my last year at school because the group I was in didn't have any parties to go to, which meant that I didn't meet many guys at all, not that I would have been able to speak to one if I met him. My self-esteem was so bad that when my sister bought me some makeup for my birthday one year I couldn't bring myself to start wearing it for fear that people would look at me and think it was ridiculous that I should make the effort at all. SCBs live for girls like me. What I wonder, though, is if I had given Robert Marshall my correct phone number at the end of Grade 6 (instead of a fake one given in fear of a boy ACTUALLY calling me) if I might have ended up with a boyfriend like all the cool girls, and avoided seeing myself as some kind of troll living under a bridge and being totally undeserving of being liked. And it was true, Robert did have a crush on me, I was the only girl in school allowed to use his walkie talkies. Yep, you heard right. Walkie talkies. I'm sure it was true love. Or a convenient excuse, anyway.
6 Comments:
SCB sounds like my first boyfriend. I had no self esteem even turned a blind eye that he was sleeping with two girls (at the same time no less) 2 doors down from my house.
The things we do for seemingly attractive boys.
This SCB wasn't even attractive... so I don't know what I was thinking. There should be some sort of filter system to stop guys like that getting within 100 metres of us! Glad to see you upgraded from an SCB to a TFG :)
I hate him.
I want to beat him with my rolling pin.
Oh Ubie - you have my permission. Thanks a bunch!
You know what I wish, I wish there were some girls that wanted to take advantage of me because of my intense low self esteem.
Seriously though, I'm glad you don't have to deal with that twat anymore. He's not worthy of your time.
Walkie talkies rules.
This site is one of the best I have ever seen, wish I had one like this.
»
Post a Comment
<< Home