No really. My birthday is July 24th. I was 35 this year. Somehow the whole year that I was 34 seems to have disappeared. I could have sworn I just turned 33, and suddenly I’m 35. It’s so strange.
In other news, I managed to survive both of my summer classes. I’ve not gotten my grades back yet but I’m quite certain I pulled in two B’s. I think it was an 88 in Sociology, and…86-88ish in English Comp 2. That English class was not nice. That English class made me change my mind about ever considering a career in Journalism. Kudos to Miss Pantry, who not only survived English classes, but chose a career in journalism. More power to ya, sister, and you never need to worry about me coming to take your job. I couldn’t tolerate another English class, I could never be an English major of any sort.
Honestly, I’d have had a B if I hadn’t turned in my last paper late. It’s just that it was an 8 page synthesis…argument…rogerian…something or another. Hell I don’t even remember. I chose Healthcare Reform as my topic, I used super long quotes, and I rambled quite a bit. In the end I wasn’t sure if I was arguing for or against healthcare reform, or if maybe the argument had suddenly shifted to starving chihuahuas in Chihuahua, but I finished the essay. I turned it in two days late, the fuckface professor took 10% off my grade, and I was just happy not to give in to the urge to stab him with my #2 pencil.
Passive aggressive? Me? Pfft.
I admit I’m having some anger issues lately. I’d like to put my foot in somebody’s ass, but unfortunately that person lives too far away for me to reach, and he’s really not worth the effort. That being said, I’d still like to put my foot in his ass.
Is it strange that I’m getting angry almost 3 months later?
I can’t help it, really. Every time I have a moment where I miss him, I feel so incredibly stupid for missing him, and that pisses me off. The more I think of him, the more I miss him, and the more I get mad at him, and the more I want to hurt him. I want to hurt him worse than he hurt me.
Somebody that used to be his friend told me today that it would basically be a waste of time to try and hurt him, that he’s unfeeling. Then I got really pissed off, because I know it’s true. He’s a heartless bastard, and a fraud in every sense of the word. For all I know “he” is a 16 year old girl from Sacramento who is a vegetarian that eats meat on the 29th of each month. Or maybe he is a 40 year old married man from Moscow who is a manager at a sex toy store.
You see how these thoughts make me want to hurt “him”? I don’t even know him.
I heard his voice once when he let me, and once I heard his voice when he didn’t know I could, so I do know he really does speak Tagalog. Chances are he really does live in the Philippines. I saw lots of pictures of “him” but I never saw him on camera. I don’t think he is who he pretended to be. He’s a fake and a fraud and a stupid fucking pig, and I hate him.
And I miss him.
Anyway, now that that’s out of my system, I think I’ll sleep. I hope I haven’t offended anyone with my potty mouth. If I have, oh fucking well. Go read my Disclaimer.
Love.
I’m not set on his lack of feelings. I think he feels -something-. There were those weekends you spent together, where you messed up your sleep patterns, and he was on. He also had asked me a few times to call you and wake you up just to spend time with you. He lied to you cause he didn’t wanna tell you he was sick of you. And the time you were “gossiping” about him, he flipped. All I can figure is that the culture is really different there, where women are dominated and treated like objects still or something. Whatever though. I’m glad you don’t want him anymore, he was just a big bother to you.
Comment by Celia — July 28, 2009 @ 5:53 pm |
Thank you, defense witness Ceelie.
The thing is…he does feel things, but love is not one of the things he feels. (Neither is guilt.) He does feel anger and jealousy…or he’s a good actor. I don’t think he loved me, I do think he was bored and lonely and I was entertainment online. Like a person who plays a videogame, I wasn’t “real” to him, that’s how he can have no compunction about fucking me over the way he did. Just as a gamer wouldn’t feel guilt for quitting a videogame, he doesn’t feel guilt for dumping me. The whole “relationship” was just some imaginary thing. While it was all very real and deeply meaningful for me, it was very shallow and only symbolic for him. (The prosecution rests.) 
Comment by jktty — July 29, 2009 @ 12:30 am |
At the very least he enjoyed talking to you, which means he at least liked you in some way. I don’t know that he was faking it so much as seeing you as a sure thing for his ego. Maybe?
Comment by pantrypuff — August 2, 2009 @ 6:29 pm |