Saturday, September 3, 2016


He claims to be a sociopath, like it's some sort of badge of honor.  He's not.  What he is is a narcissist.  I fall into the trap nearly every time.  I will think things are fine, that he's gone, and then BAM, I will fall right into the hole again.  I should learn not to bite the bait that is set out for me.  I've done this before, I've been here before, and not only with him.

So tonight he stumbles across my twitter posts about him that I made almost 6 months ago during my Facebook sabbatical.  Tweets that helped me work through the demons in my head.  Posts that never mentioned him by name, or tagged him.  He knew they were about him, how could he not?  He did those hurtful things.  Tonight I am the bitch, the thick-skulled pain in the ass, the libtard.  Because calling me names is the only thing he can think to do to build himself back up.  

Then he threatened to ruin my life if I ever did it again.  I pointed out that... HELLO... someone had already done that, and it was my uncle.  He was more than welcome to try, but that I have very few skeletons in my closets, and those that are there don't matter anymore.  I told him that slashing two of my tires would really suck, since I only have one donut.  He didn't think that was funny.

I am just exhausted.  I don't want to do this anymore.  I can only block him so many places under so many different names.

This has completely wrecked  me.  He has completely wrecked me.  I am over it, really I am.  I am over him, I would never in a million years want him back.  What I am not over is the pain, the feeling of not being worthy, of doing something wrong, of being the one at fault.  These are not uncommon emotions for individuals who have been cheated on.  I have to keep reminding myself that him cheating doesn't say anything about what I am lacking, but rather what he is lacking.  

I meet someone, and I hold back, I can't let myself go.  I can't let myself want to.  I do not want to go through this again.  All of that wasted time.  Being alone and occasionally lonely is ten million times better than ever having to feel this way again.