Thursday, January 11, 2007

Love's a Black Diamond But My Heart's Just a Beginner

Holy shit, if that's not a country song, it should be.
And if I've never considered why I don't need a guest parking space (or a second pillow or why I never gave away the "ST END" half of the necklace that matches my "BE FRI" one) perhaps I should.

I'm going skiing this weekend and was throwing things in a suitcase when I realized I couldn't find my ski pants. After looking all over my house (which lately has started to smell like mulch...explain that to me) it hit me that they had to be at My Former Boyfriend's (MFB) house. So it was either go buy another pair or call him and ask if he'd care to look through my former closet (MFC) to see if they were hiding behind the windsuits and mall-walking shoes and electrolysis machines that his new girlfriend Flipper had no doubt hung from the rack.

He found them and I made the stupid, stupid, giving yourself breast implants using Ziploc bags and aquarium gravel-level stupid decision to go get them. Everything was going just fine until we ruined it with words. The airport incident came up. As did that painful itching, burning sensation that I've now recognized as feelings. And there were tears.

I hate long-term relationships.

Confidential to My Stuffed Dinosaur: I'm so not talking about you.

When I think about it, MFB and I were like Barbaro.

When we started out, we were unstoppable. There had never been anything like us, not for a long time. We had early successes and a big win, and we thought it would always be like that. Then there was an unfortunate stumble that neither of us saw coming. We were down but there was hope. We recovered but it wouldn't be the same. We sought treatment but it didn't help. Then there was laminitis, another setback, and by now, you just wish that somebody would've effing shot it to start with because you never want to hear about it again.

You know what happened next. I got home and realized that I hadn't made it back with those pants.

I never learn. Stupid horse.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Well, I don't even want to tell you what happened tonight when I tried to find your page from home. Usually I view it at work, where I have it bookmarked because I happened to find you one day a few months ago while under the guise of performing "market reseach". To sum it up, I now know alot more about watches than I ever intended to (key in j-money on google), and I am a person who wakes up totally dependent on the smell of her undergarments from the night before. IF I'm wearing them, that is.

Sorry you're going thru a phase where the exbf (exbf = probably bi sexual m*ther f&cker) is haunting you. I don't know you or him, but I know you remind me of my best friend that I have had for 24 years, and that is a good thing. It will pass, trust you.