Tuesday, 03/11/2008 - 11:04 p.m.
So the Boy pulled this particular brand of bullshit on me this weekend so I left him. As in packed up all his clothes and took off his ring and cried for hours. Told him not to call me, contact me, or even act like he knew me and I'd bring all his shit back to him this coming weekend. It wasn't phonesex this time, it was only lunch, but that's never the point. Stop promising me these cyber relationships aren't ever going anywhere, only to change your mind later and say "Oh whoops, I really do want to get involved even though I promised otherwise". Dickhead.
After the first go around, I thought the Boy understood why I was so upset. So, OK, lesson learned on his part, right? Obviously not, because he did it again. So something from my end has to change because he's not changing from his end. The only option left was leaving him. I gave him a second chance and he blew that one so what else is there? A third chance, apparently, because I'm a *dumbass*. And I'm in love. And the thought of living without him made me physically ill.
All DC said about my decision to break up was "How many chances did *I* get?" And I said "You've made an excellent point. Goddamn it.". Which is why at 9 o'clock on a Sunday night I was tear-assing up to Podunk. And of course, every fucking radio station was playing some sappy love song and that bitch Delilah was doing her radio show about "Who's on your heart tonight?" and I cried most of the way there. Goddamn it.
So we stood in the Boy's kitchen and cried and argued and cried some more. I think he finally understands it's not about meeting for lunch or phonesexing someone - it's about keeping your word and doing (or not doing) what you said you would do (or not do).
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