It Had To Be Done

I broke up with John because he was the worst thing that ever happened to me.  When I first met him, I think I was blinded by certain material qualities he had.  I seemed to think that they overruled anything else that I consider more important, you know like… good sense, a sense of humour, maturity, and just the quality that a man has to treat a girl right.

I think I thought that just because he had a degree, owned his own home, etc, etc, that it would be enough. How could I ever be more wrong?  I’m not a girl ruled by material things.  I do like them, don’t get me wrong, but if I ever wanted a serious relationship that’s not what I would look for first.  If I wanted a guy to bullshit around with, yeah, I’d make sure he had the money because he would be just for fun.  But you could never really build anything serious on that.  There’s so much more to life than that.

At any rate, after two long miserable years of dealing with stupid shit, that adults should never have to deal with, I finally ended it.  Basically, I just stopped calling him because he was a piece of trash and I was tired of being weighed down with by that.  I changed my phone number and moved on with my life.  It took me a minute to get my life back together because when  you first break up with someone you want to blame yourself, you want to go crawling back, apologise for shit you didn’t do.  Especially girls, girls are the worst in a break up whether it’s their fault or not, they always want to shoulder all the blame.  Nobody likes being lonely and sometimes having a piece of trash is better than having nothing at all.

At any rate, after four months of getting myself together, I decided that I had to take my revenge.  Because he is a piece of trash, I know that he would not have made any changes in his life since me.  I knew there would be no other girl and if there was, she wouldn’t be able to compare to me.  God don’t like ugly.  So, I called him up one fine evening and inquired after his health, just to see how he was doing.  You know, I had to be nosy because curiosity was just killing me!

He invited me over, and I went.  Sure enough, he is still the same piece of trash and here I am looking good, in control once again, looking desirable and I enjoyed every minute of letting him know that he would never get me again.  He kept saying, “Wow, you look great.”  I had to pump my own head up and start bragging about what I was doing and where I was going.  Okay, so I exaggerated a little bit, but it was necessary.  By the time I left, I felt secure that I had done the right thing in breaking up with him and rubbing it in his face that I can do well on my own. 

Now he is blowing up my phone, “What are you doing tonight?”  Two wrongs don’t make a right (according to Paul) but it sure makes me feel good when I say, “Oh, I have a date,” or “Sorry, I’m busy… Girls night out.”  Something.  Especially since he told me that all he does these days is go to work and come home to watch the golf channel.  Where’s all your friends, I asked him.  All these friends that he kept standing me up for.  Oh, too busy for you?  Hmm, what goes around comes around.

It wasn’t right to go rubbing it in but what the hell… It wasn’t right for him to treat me like garbage either.

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