endurance test

speaking of my ex...

life has gotten a lot happier, not to mention simpler, since i go out of town a lot and changed my schedule at work. now, i only have to see him a couple of days a week and not damn near every day. i think it's clear that i don't like him. i tried to seperate things and tell myself and i like him as a person, but just not the things he does. i can't really say that. i just don't like him. there's no way we can ever be friends again, and, quite frankly, i can't wait to leave this place and him behind.

his realtionship with his girlfriend doesn't bother me. well, it does, but not in that i'm-so-jealous way. it's just a constant reminder of how fucked up he was to me and how, in the end, i was the one who was hurt the most. his actual girlfriend, though, is no one of consequence. actually, they seemed to be perfect for each other. they're on the same level. plus, he needs to be needed and to save someone and she seems like she needs to be saved. i told him a long time ago that the reason we would never work out is because i don't need him. i liked him and i wanted him, but i didn't need him. the only men i need are my father and brother. i'm just not that kind of girl. i used to be, but i'm not now.

i want to be with someone who wants to be with me, not feel obligated to be. i also want him to know that he is wanted. at no time should my man feel like the only reason i call him is to fix my garbage disposal or something. if my cable is fucked up, i'll call Comcast. i enjoy having a man who can fix things, but that should never be the focus of the relationship. i think in the natural course of a relationship you grow to need someone, but that's different. that's emotional (and, if you live together, financial) and that's completely acceptable. it was the strangest, and ultimately, the saddest thing, because if i wanted him to come over to hang out and watch a movie he was always busy. if, in the course of the same conversation, i mentioned my computer was fucked up, he'd come over as soon as i came home from work. i started to come under the impression that he didn't really like me, but he swore he did. i don't know. i'm just not built like that. i need a reciprocative realtionship and that means him knowing how to take.

but i digress. anyway, i don't talk to him anymore. cursory things, fine, but never a conversation. i don't want to know what's going on in his life and he lost the right to have any sort of access to mine. the whole thing still stresses me out and he makes me feel ugly and bad about myself. what he did and the way he hurt me was so profound that i'm having a hard time recovering. i, however, never let him see me sweat. fuck him. lately i've been seeing him around more and the bastard is becoming an endurance test for me. he's testing my resolve, my composure, and, most of all, my patience. i've become the queen of deep breaths and rolling shit off my back.

i know he doesn't do this shit on purpose, but i don't actually care about his motives. the sight of him is causing me to lay down another layer of brick around me. he is my endurance test: to stay happy and shamelessly, optimistically me; to remember my worth and that i didn't deserve what he did to me; and to let that which does not matter truly slide.