Why Do I Even Bother??!?

And because I'm fucking retarded isn't the answer...or maybe in this case it is.

As very few of you may have noticed I've been MIA lately. And not because I don't have anything to write about. It's been actually quite the opposite. I just can't blog about all the other stuff until I get this post off my chest. This post is the post I didn't want to write. Ever. This post is the reason I had, what I like to call, situational writer's block. I call it situational only because my current, so-called writer's block, is only present because of my current situation. You see? I'm almost 10 sentences into this and I'm still struggling to confess. My struggle doesn't originate from a lack of words but more from shame. Maybe it would have been easier had certain people like Titling Suds or Fuckface hadn't found my blog. Then again I wouldn't have to write this post if Fuckface hadn't found my blog. If you can smell the plot thicking, then you are spot on.

This all started when FF after weeks of searching, actually found my blog. He read every single post. Every. Single. Nasty. Word. In my mind I fantasized sending a link to my blog to him. In one scenario, I fantasized that the words he came across would infuriate him so much that he would never ever want to talk to me again regardless of how strong or how often our moments of weakness would hit us. I imagined that this blog would be what he needed to read in order to leave me the fuck alone. In another scenario, I fantasized about him reading the words on the screen and breaking down into tears. Bitch tears. The kind that make your face puffy, leave you exhausted and wanting to puke from all the heaving. I imagined him being so hurt by how he hurt me that he would forever be scarred and ashamed to ever contact me again. That's the fucked up thing about day dreaming.It's just that, fucking dreams. And I don't give a fuck what that talking little lying fucker of a cricket says, dreams DO NOT come true.

Before FF found my blog he had been calling and texting. I really didn't respond because I was busy dating. When I burned through my stash of prospective suitors I found the whole dating thing exhausting. I didn't want to return another stupid email to another stupid douche bag. After a month, I hit my douche bag quota and decided to pull my profile. Mistake number 1. With all this free time, I had a hard time distracting myself when he did text or call. Beating your kids is only fun for so long. Besides I'm lazy and tired very quickly after my first few punches. Punching is no joke. Drinking myself into an oblivion is my next favorite way to pass time. But let's be honest, drinking doesn't mix well with texting. It just adds fuel to the fire. What else was I to do with my time?!? Exercise? Uh. No. Hellloooo! I'm lazy. I didn't have anything else to help keep distracted. You see I possess no talent. Zip. Zilch. Zero. Nada. I'm shit out of luck. I'm not good at anything. I can't draw, sing, play an instrument, accessorize, decorate, build anything or collect anything. However as a side note, I do strongly believe that not having a talent IS a talent. Being truly unexceptional at everything isn't easy. But in my case my "talent" didn't do me any favors. In an effort to "rip off my band-aid" quickly, allow me to try to accelerate all of this. I met with FF and listened to what he had to say. Mistake number 2. He claimed to have not known how much he hurt me until he read post after post about him and the pain he had caused me. I looked at him blankly and thought to myself, "Uh, really?!? Me telling the blogging world that you have a small penis didn't piss you off?!?! I was sure that would set you over the edge. Hmmm, interesting." He asked for another chance. A chance to make me happy. A chance for him to love me. A chance to show me that what I wanted was indeed what he wanted. Uh huh. You guessed it. Like the dumbass I am, I took him back. Mistake number 3. I know. I'm ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated and disappointed that I buckled.

So here I am on a Thursday night pissed, more at me than him, and completely disappointed. You see, I started a new job last week. Tonight I had mandatory training until 7pm. I asked FF if he could please help me tonight by picking up my son from my mom. He said he didn't know if he could help because he has clients in town all week but that he would do his best. Fair enough. So as soon as I got out of training I called him to ask him where he was. The mother fucker was bowling! Why he's bowling and not helping me isn't the reason for my current emotional anguish. No. I AM the source of my current emotional anguish. How foolish of me to think I could depend on him. How foolish of me to think that when I fall he'd be there to pick me up up. How foolish of me to buy into his bullshit that he'd change and work on being there for me. This isn't my first rodeo with him. I fucking know better and for that, I am mad at me. Not him. I am tired of being a single mom. I've been doing this gig alone for almost 17 fucking years. I am emotionally, physically and spiritually tired of it. I am even more tired of having to depend on my fucking family to help me. Nothing worse than your archenemy, your mother, reminding you every chance she gets how much she fucking helps you and how you couldn't do anything without her. And the worst, her asking me what in the hell would I do if I didn't have her. But more so, I am fucking sick of being the tag along with my family. I've had no significant other for quite some time. At least not one I liked enough to have around. Vacations, holidays, events and even everyday fucking simple shit like movies or little league games I'm constantly with some member of my family. Last year, I had to ask Diva to be my Christmas date. Now granted it fucking rocked. I had the hottest date at the whole party but fuck. I'm an old ass woman. At my age, shouldn't I have a fucking date??? But what's really important. What's really at the forefront of my mind. What's painfully clear to me is that FF isn't tired of it. He obviously doesn't mind having to depend on his parents to help him with his kids. He doesn't mind tagging along with his family. And lord knows, he certainly doesn't mind not ever having a plus one to any of his company functions. In fact, I'm pretty fucking sure the fucker prefers it that way. So I ask myself, "Why do I even fucking bother?!?!" I actually have the answer to that question but in fear of my post being too long, I'll stop my retardation here and post the answer tomorrow.

Please allow the insulting comments to commence. Thank you and good evening.