Dear Relationship Gods,

You can stop testing me now; I’m good. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m sincerely thankful for all you’ve done thus far (at least your most recent work), but I think you’ve thrown enough out there now to test my ability to not be a crazy psycho. I get it, I’ve failed before, but this time is different. I mean it.

Rob’s A.C. trip, though comparative, did not elicit nearly the same emotions as this minimal-contact-with-Stefan weekend. In Rob’s defense though, our relationship was over (I know, because I had Cosmo a/k/a “The Band Aid” then), and I had every reason to be concerned.  Regardless, when you know, you know.  And I was just being stupid.

Chris’ living 60 miles away was difficult, but expecting your boyfriend to be there every week with minimal effort on your part is wrong. It’s also wrong to take on projects. Whether you want to admit it in the beginning or not, you still know what is and isn’t one.  And really, 120 miles is made to feel like nothing when done right.

Ex-girlfriends are crazy bitches (I would know, right?), and can be awfully manipulative when they want to be (I would know, right?).  And current girlfriends are generally insecure psychopaths, right?  But fuck you, RGs, ’cause it’s not happening.  And here’s why (an overview):

(Disclaimer: for those of you who don’t care or don’t want to know about my past relationships, please refrain from reading further. Thank you.)

Real big girl (sorta) relationship #1: James (2001-2004).
I tried friending James on FB recently, to see if he was an adult yet, but alas, his horse-face whore probably didn’t let him even get the request.  I carry a picture of him around with me (even though I don’t look at it), but only because it recently came back to me. I had given away some books on Freecycle and I apparently had hidden the picture of him in his uniform inside of the book, which I imagine was a Nicholas Sparks novel (barf!).  The people who took the books mailed it back to me, and I stuck it in my little Moleskine.  I don’t know where to put it, honestly, and I can’t just throw it out.  Because James was the person I first fell in love with.  Sure, he never loved me back, but I was in serious hard-core love with this boy.  Maybe it was the challenge and love had nothing to do with it, but I’m pretty sure that’s not true (but I am certain the challenge helped).  I’m rather good at deciphering my own feelings (what I’m not good at is admitting them), and I had that shit down to a science.  The good news is that I’m 99% over him; the bad news is there is always going to be 1% of me that loves that cheating douchebag.

Real big girl relationship #2: Rob (2004-2006).
Okay, I guess it’s time to freely admit the facts here.  This was kind of the opposite situation.  I only dated Rob for two reasons (which really boil down to one): he was madly in love with me, and someone else was after him.  I’ve gotta tell you though, if there’s ever a boy who is madly in love with you (that’s tolerable), date him, even for just a little while, because you will feel like the Queen of the World (because you’re the queen of his world).  But be careful, because if you try to make that long-term, shit will get fucked up, I promise.  And then you’ll go out on a boat with your skeevy sort-of ex-boyfriend and … well, that’s enough for now.

Real big girl relationship #3: Chris (2007-2009, essentially).
Okay, so I’ve already mentioned that this wasn’t perfect at the start.  I’d been single for almost a whole year at this point, and obviously that’s something I wasn’t very used to.  I’d recently changed my standards (they were actually ‘upped’) to “must be smart” with the remaining fundamental requirement of “I must be attracted to him,” which became a rare occurrence, contrary to my former youth as an SW.  So Chris was it, until I realized there was a lack of emotion there that I just couldn’t handle.  Then I found out that he wasn’t just outwardly unemotional, he was lying about his emotions as well.  But again, I turned my head, replaced my evidence, and ignored it, thinking maybe I could be what I knew he wanted.  (I know, I know–dumb move.)
I don’t want the world to think this was an overall shitty relationship.  Okay, for a good while, it was, but there were definitely good times too, or I’d have never stuck around.  I’m way less angry about everything I either had to endure (I’m sorry, but the “asshole” breakup will always have been a stupid idea), or had to find out on my own (you were right, I read your email, but apparently I needed to or we might still be beating the shit out of each other if I had chosen to continue to ignore your asshole breakup technique).  I can now look back on the better times and smile, and I can look back on the bad times and still have an appetite.  But when the memories are more bad than good, well, again, you know.  And you always knew.  (Again, I am bad at admitting things.)
I don’t want the world to think there wasn’t any love there either, because there was.  And another 1% of me will somehow, ridiculously always love him.  But not once in those two years was either of us truly in love with one another.  (I can make the distinction now, I’m happy to say.)

Big Girl Intermediate Half-Relationships/Potentials (2009-2010):
– Mike: let me put it to you this way–I dated Mike after dating Chris because he was full of emotion.  I mean FULL.  Here’s how full: we stopped dating around July ’09 (we had only started in May/June ’09).  He got married August 1, 2010.

– Tim: the only thing I can think of when I think of Tim is his left nipple and then I giggle uncontrollably.  Joana will probably be the only person to get that, but I will never take that boy seriously.  I hope his music career takes off and he writes a song about me (bad or good, no bother). My 2009 Valentine.

– Sam: my mother described him in one word (which she stupidly waited until after we stopped dating (if you can even call it that) to tell me): Weasel.  I don’t really think I need to go any further with that, and anyone that knows Sam, knows I’m right.

– Cory: if you can even count Cory.  I mean the first two times we dated might have counted.  (Was it 2? 3? 1?)  This one sort of almost counted.  I don’t know. Looking back I always wrote “I want Cory to be my best friend!” in my journals.  That hasn’t really changed.  Someone remind me to call him later, ’cause I’m a lousy friend.

– Am I missing anyone?  Jeeze, I hope not. Well, if we dated and I missed you, sorry, but I guess it didn’t mean that much to me.  I apologize for breaking it to you this way.

Which brings me to now. The Best Thing That’s Ever Happened To Me (BTTEHTM? Needs vowels.).  Maybe I’m just not able to get over the whole high-school crush thing, but really, I had a crush on everyone in high school, teachers included (which I’ve come to learn is a result of my insecure attachment style as a baby).  But I will forever be grateful if every time Stefan and I are together I have the same thought(s): one is that I can’t believe he’s there, in my presence, and he loves me (I knew that wayyyyy before you said it, btw, as did you).  The other is that I am the luckiest girl in the world.
Yeah, sure, I’ve sorta felt that way before (but reading the overview above, how stable a thought could it have really been?), but what makes this different is that we both feel the same way.  Okay, maybe he doesn’t think he’s the luckiest girl in the world or is enamored by my presence, but the underlying emotions are there, and they’re the same and they’re glorious.

So, RGs, do your worst.  You seem to have been throwing some lovely tests in lately, for which I’d like to punch you in the face.  But I will prevail, because I’ll lose the best thing ever if I don’t.  Kajal says it’s all about mindset, and she’s right (’cause I would have said the same thing were I not the crazy girlfriend trying to sort shit out on her own).  I have always been incredibly receptive to truth, so as long as I keep myself focused on it (and admit it if I find a some I don’t particularly like), I’ll be okay. I’m not screwing up the easiest and best relationship I’ve ever had. No way, no how.

Bring it, bitches.
XOXO,
Monkeyface

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