I got a new dog, today! I’d introduce you, but he’s a little tied up right now. Perhaps, later?
We are number one when it comes to debt to the IMF, though. Our account balance in the International Monetary Fund is around negative 400 billion. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to write a check for 400 billion dollars and not go to prison? Oh, and who’s in second place? Spain, with a balance of negative 70 billion. Who’s got the highest balance? China, with over 300 billion dollars in the black; more than twice Japan, the runner-up.
This only makes sense if you’ve heard the Mel Gibson audio rant. Click here to listen. There’s much more, which you’ll find all around youtube and many other websites if you do a little searching. The entire rant is around 43 minutes long.
Am I a bad person for totally giggling like crazy when I saw this?
It’s been a month and a half since Breanna left me. Don’t feel sorry for me; I deserved it. When I met her, she tried to tell me all of these great things about myself. She told me I was beautiful, affectionate, intelligent, sensitive, caring, and unselfish. She accepted that I wasn’t a perfect person, but she claimed she believed I was perfect for her. She went as far as to say that I was even made just for her. For a little while, I resisted, but she didn’t like that. So, I started to accept these things she told me and, in some ways, believed them. At least, to the degree where I felt that they were things she truly believed.
The truth is, there’s nothing extraordinary about me. There never has been. Quite honestly, I don’t aspire to be anything but normal and average. I’m happiest when I can just fit in.
My other point, is that I’m beginning to accept that I’m single, again. It’s hard, and it hurts so badly, but I know there’s nothing I can do to ever get Breanna back in my life as my significant other. She doesn’t trust me, she hardly believes anything I say, and she’s all but completely disconnected from me. Whenever I talk to her, I just seem to make things worse. My existence makes her unhappy. I had never felt so close to anyone in my entire life, and now, I have never felt so far from someone. I count myself as lucky that I hadn’t been pushed out of her life completely, but lately I’m beginning to wonder what the difference would be between that and whatever this is.
I’m not special. I’m not made for anyone. If Breanna isn’t my soulmate, then the concept of such a thing truly doesn’t exist. Anyone that thinks otherwise is just setting us both up for the same disappointment that Breanna and I went through. I just want to be an ordinary, average, American wife. I want to marry for love, and start a family for all the right reasons. I definitely want to be a mom. If this were to happen, it would most likely be with another female, so I’d love to have a son, so we can truly have a freakin’ man around the house! Sure, it would be a big responsibility, but I know he’d be awesome at it. I’d love a daughter to share my jewelry and clothes with, teach her how to do her makeup, and hopefully, guide her to not make the same mistakes I did. I wanted to find someone who wanted these things with me. It’s a lot easier to make a dream that’s one and the same come true than try to fulfill two different dreams altogether.
It doesn’t have to be fancy. It doesn’t have to be perfect. I just don’t want it to be a dream anymore. So, now that we’re done with what I want, let’s check back in with reality. I know I will most likely never have those things, though I was quite deluded, at one point, that I just may. I’m learning to cope with that. Just because I’ll never start a family, doesn’t mean I want to give up on not being alone. If there’s someone out there for me, let me know you’re there. I don’t need you to tell me I’m beautiful, or special, or amazing, or perfect. You can threaten me, hurt me, hit me, break all of my things and then scream at me, “Look at what you made me do!” Really, you can, and I won’t go anywhere. I’d take solace in knowing that you know just how much of a mistake I am from the start. In fact, just knowing that you regretted me the moment you met me and still chose to be with me would be pretty flattering. If it makes you happy to hate me, it’s OK; just don’t leave me alone.
I want to make it very clear I’m not looking into some kind of domination and submission thing. I don’t want some mutual understanding of some twisted form of love being expressed with sadistic power play. I’m just willing to accept and love a person that’s abusive, for as long as they let me love them.
If you’re out there, I’m ordinary and I’m single and I don’t want to be anything more in this life, but yours.
You were always there for me, and us. I was the undependable one. How could you stay in a relationship like that? The short answer is, you couldn’t.
That’s how I figured out how you fell out of love with me last night. Up until the middle of last month, you were always there for me and I just wasn’t there for you. I didn’t even realize the stress it put on you to bottle everything up just so I wouldn’t fall apart. I always knew you the stronger of the two of us. So, of course, when you couldn’t talk to me, you’d talk to someone else. You leaned on someone else and you certainly didn’t need me anymore. I simply made you not need me anymore.
All of that took you about a year to figure out. It took me about five weeks. I guess that should make me feel lucky. All it really does is make me sad.
I needed you last night, just as I needed you so many nights since you’d left. You even called me, just to hang up on me when I needed you most. Fortunately, for me, someone else was there for me. That’s all it took to make me realize I didn’t need you; that I can’t need you. You aren’t a dependable person to need, just as I wasn’t. You used to be, but that’s not the person you want to be for me anymore.
If there came a time within these past few weeks where you needed me and I was there for you, maybe that would have put us back on track. Now, I guess it would take a miracle, for we’d have to both realize we need each other and we can depend on one another.
Is that what real love is? I don’t really think so. I think love needs a little codependency here and there, but codependency sure doesn’t need love. I suppose that’s why if you love something you have to let it go; if it comes back to you, then it was meant to be. If you let something go and it was more than some symbiotic dependence, but actual love, of course, they’ll come back, otherwise they only might come back. Just because they come back, doesn’t mean it was love, it just means they still need you and you’re still willing to be there for them. It’s only love if they come back without needing to. Tricky, huh?
Last year, I needed someone, and you needed someone, and we sort of just fell in one another’s lap. Call it serendipity. Was there love there? Maybe something we thought was love, perhaps, but I’ve really lost faith that it was anything like that. I do, however, believe you were the closest thing to real love I’ve ever had.
Maybe I’m wrong, though. Maybe there was love and we’ll end up back together some day. Maybe, we’ll just wind up being dependent on each other, again, and start this cycle all over, again.
Regardless of what any of it was, I still would have married you and spent the rest of my life making this work. That’s just the kind of person I am.
Last night, I needed you and you could have been there for me but you chose not to be. You made it very clear to me that it was your choice not to be there for me. How can I be in love with someone that treats me like that? I can’t.
The foundation for real love is definitely there, and maybe someday we can give that a try now that we know what it is. We definitely have all the makings for it, we just have to both want it. On the bright side, you taught me what love is, and what it isn’t. Unfortunately, with us, it probably just wasn’t there. Tempus est optimus iudex.
I’m not hurting myself over you, anymore. You can stop being such a mindfuck all the time, now. Goodbye, Breanna.
Sometimes I forget why I even bother with 4chan’s antics; then something like this comes along…
If the technology becomes commercially viable, I’ll visit you in a submarine.
“When you make music or write or create, it’s really your job to have mind-blowing, irresponsible, condomless sex with whatever idea it is you’re writing about at the time.” — Lady Gaga on 31 January 2009 ~8:00 PM (1 Year Ago)