08/05/00
"...I am not your senorita...I am not from your tribe..."
Yeah yeah yeah...BAD ME. I have been bad bad bad web diary girl. My apologies to anyone who sincerely worried that I might be dead or something.
Just wishing I were.
Okay...where to begin? Things are getting pretty fucking crazy in the big city. Starting with last weekend. Megan went to Iowa to visit her friend Bill, so I was "home alone" all weekend, which was fucking fine with me, since she had been a complete BITCH RAG FROM HELL for the prior two weeks and we were barely speaking. I was actively looking for a place to live, because she had informed me that "you left me, therefore, you should be the one to move out because that's just the way it works." (Side note: THANK FUCKING GOD she clarified that, I can now sleep at night now that I know THE WAY IT WORKS.) So I spent last Saturday night at Zak's, fucking merrily into the wee hours of the morning. God, I can't explain in words the way it feels to have him roll over in the very early morning and throw his arms around me and hold me so close to him...gads... ANYWAY, Friday before Megan left for Iowa, she calls me at work and asks "did you go look at that house on your lunch hour?" Damn skippy, I did. I loved it, too. Cheap, just a few blocks from my current home, and cute cute cute, but the landlady cunt was taking applications and making CREDIT CHECKS. Fuck you, whore, I'm a homeowner. I'll sell my soul before I rent from another dickhead. So she says "well, I've been thinking, and it's not fair for me to insist that you move out, because it's your house, too, blah blah blah." So I say, let's talk about it when you get back Sunday night. So we make a date to have some coffee and discuss living arrangements.
We went to Denny's, and it was somber, but good. I told her "you know I bat for both teams" and she said, yeah, she knew, and that was cool, and she knew we could be best friends some day, and she was going to move into the basement so she'd have her own space, and we chatted it up just like old friends. I told her that Zak had offered to take me to his dad's place in Osceola (read: middleoffuckingnowhere) and teach me how to shoot a gun this weekend (because I begged) and she said, do you like him?
I figured she already knew. So I closed my eyes and jumped off that cliff. I said, I find him interesting, and a very nice person, and yes, we're already sleeping together...
And then I hit the very hard, rocky, pointy ground at the foot of the cliff.
Apparently, she's the only person in the free world who DIDN'T know we were fucking like rabbits. I tried placating her with "it's only sex" and the like, and even told her it hadn't been until after we broke up, but she was still visibly upset. When we got home, she went to her room and cried, then came out and screamed at me, "you need to just stick with your plan to move, because I don't fucking want you here, you fucking whore."
Insert dyke drama here. Like, until 3:30 Monday morning. Apparently, Miss Megan has had an epiphany of sorts, deciding that she "loves me" and "wants me back." Hmmmm...this wouldn't have anything to do with the idea of me getting it from someone else, would it?
She claims I led her on, made her believe that we would eventually get back together. Uh, I did no such damn thing. I told her I needed my own life, that I needed time away from the whole situation, ad nauseum. Yet she never showed any indication of desire for reconciliation until she found out I was spending time in someone else's bed.
I stayed home from work on Monday because my eyes were damn near swollen shut from crying. What to do? Go back to her, give her another chance, risk her hurting me so badly and so deeply again as she did during these last 7 months? Cut her off completely, risk wondering 20 years from now "did I give up the best I could have had?" And trite though it may sound, I don't want to stop seeing Zak. I really like him. I know he isn't in love with me, truth be told, I don't know that I'm in love with him, per se. But I enjoy his company. I like the way he's so not a pretentious uppity snob. I like the way he takes care of himself and his business and fuck the rest of the world. I like the way he could give a flying fuck less what anyone else thinks about him. I like the way he treats me. And, yeah, the sex is fucking phenomenal.
She came home Monday afternoon still in piss princess mode. Words were shouted, ad nauseum. I slammed the microwave door and knocked a jar of beans off the top. Glass and dried legumes everywhere. Then she went into my bedroom and put her fist through one of my windows. THAT pissed me off. "Real fucking smart, Megan," I said, and I left. Having nowhere else really to go, I went to Zak's. He knew something icky was afoot but didn't push for details.
20 minutes later, she was in front of his house in her car, hanging out the window, calling my cell phone from hers. Like a dumbass I answered. "I'm going to go pack up your shit and bring it all over here and you can live with your fuck buddy...I can't believe you would want to be with some dirty, filthy, disgusting, jobless (he is not) white trash fuck who is just using you and treating you like a whore...tell him to come out here, I want to kick his fucking ass right in his own front yard..." White Trash Psycho Circus LIVE! She took off and I followed, not wanting to have my shit--in pieces--end up in his yard. And feeling like an ass for the whole icky scene. I followed her home, told her if she touched any of my shit, I was having her ass hauled to jail, and then left again. I drove around for a while and went back to Zak's. When I got home around 11:00, she had written me this long letter about how much she loves me, how much she wants me back. Ad nauseum.
I think it was Tuesday when she said I couldn't move out and not continue paying my half of the mortgage payment, because she couldn't afford it (because she's quitting her job effective 9/1, where her money will come from is beyond me) and she refuses to get a roommate. Wednesday, I told her we needed to "discuss." We had coffee again, and I told her that I would be willing to continue our present living arrangement but without further bullshit. I told her any more of that crap and I'd be having the cops drag her away, and I would then move and file a motion to compel sale of the house. Fuck it. Again, "I want you back." I told her finally that I would be willing to consider couples therapy but that was the only promise I could make her right now and that nothing else would be changing immediately. At that, she started the hem-hawing--"I just don't get the idea that you're really serious, I don't think it's worth my time/energy/money if you're just going for your own benefit and not for the end goal of us getting back together..."
I think she's fucking gone insane.
So I'm presently buying time. I'm trying to be as amicable as possible. To my knowledge, she hasn't made
But wait, there's more...