The ending to the PC/CP situation is nerve wracking. I want to interfere, I want to stir the pot, I want to ask him why in the hell he returned if he cannot even talk/text, even when my health hangs in the balance. I want to ask who or what has caused this change in him, why is he different, why are things so strained between us? Obviously, things with the MG are more serious than he let on ….who knew eating tacos, huevos rancheros and speaking Spanish for the rest of his life was his dream come true? And obviously, he wants no distractions when it comes to that. So why not be truthful with me? He has had too many opportunities to do so and even when confronted with the truth, either lies or says nothing. I want to know why I cannot leave the lost cause alone (seriously, lay the burden down). Really, I get it…I want it to work, we have overcome everything else..we can make it through this. But after awhile, hanging in there gets old and is simply not.worth.it. All that is happening is resentment is building and I am remembering that the hardware store up the street sells sledgehammers.
It has dawned on me that I always end up wanting to perform acts of physical violence to my exes, and it isn’t anything new. Physical violence has been my answer lots of times: there was the time I chased First Love (the one who introduced me to the world of addiction) down a major thoroughfare butt naked wielding a butcher knife; the time I beat a girl’s ass, tossed her off a balcony and then dragged her into rush hour traffic for knocking crack out of my hand because she was pissed I bought the last of someone’s supply; the girl at the transitional house who made snide, hurtful comments about a scandal Married Man and I were caught up in (we we caught having sex in a very public place…I almost went to jail, he got fired and everyone in town was talking about it); when I told her to meet me outside, she refused to move from her chair so I picked her up (chair and all) to carry her outside. My reputation still lingers on the streets…Cuz (who lives close to my old stomping grounds) says he still hears stories of Big Bird, the ass kicking bitch.
Even though I am now in recovery and a productive member of society, when faced with random and inexplicable acts of fuckery, physical violence is still my first thought . Sometimes, people need to SEE and FEEL that you actually do mean what you say. Fortunately, I have my Panel to talk me down , not loan me vehicles and remind me I really do not want to go to jail/prison and wear orange every day. They remind me that I enjoy my freedoms, shopping and sleeping in too much. In today’s post, as a way of passing time and posting something slightly different, I am going to list the weapons I wanted to use on various exes and give the reason why. If nothing else, it should be entertaining.
Married Man: I wanted to slice him up with a knife. A long, sharp knife. A machete, actually. The embarrassment, lies, humiliation and disrespect I suffered at his hands had me wanting to slice him up…face, arms, legs, groin area. His perversions (the puppets making him horny still has me shaking my head) and the fact I actually had to ask if he were a pedophile (seriously, there is something wrong with a man who did everything naked and sexual with either Disney Channel or cartoon Network on) had me thinking castrating him would be the best thing ever. His wanting to dip his wick in anything bigger, blacker and uglier than me had me worshipping Lorena Bobbit as one would worship a goddess. In the end, I settled for putting him in closets and withholding sex, but I wanted to carve him up physically the way he carved me up emotionally.
Him: the man who first violated my trust issues, the one who I completely fell in love with, the one who caused my mental break with reality. The man who took one look at a big tittied hooker/gold digger and forgot all about me. I had a twofold plan for him: first, was to douse everything in his house (including his beloved sports car) in deer piss…you may forget me, but you will NEVER forget that smell. Tack on the fact that deer piss is pungent the only way to get the odor out is to burn the offending item, he would have to burn everything. To the ground. Then once he was butt naked and homeless and had lost the one possession he loved more than life itself (the sports car), I would put a bullet through his brain. I figured with all the fat and rocks up in there, it would ricochet around and cause maximum damage.
AFO: This asshat could not contact me anyway except via my ads , could not remember my name, ignored me for months on end and reduced me to a pair of tits and a pair of feet in white socks…and had the nerve to be pissed at me for not giving him another chance and rejected me when I first found out about PC/CP and the MG. I was quite creative with what I wanted to do to him….I wanted a bed of nails…tall enough and wide enough to cover an entire wall, and then I wanted to throw him onto it. I may nto be able to hurt the man emotionally ( I do not think anyone can), but he would damn sure feel pain with that.
PC/CP: Because I am trying to remember this as a fun fling and not have hatred towards him and what it is currently, I do not want him dead or injured too badly, so my weapon of choice for him is a sledgehammer. I would break both his kneecaps (which would be a favor…both his knees have degenerated to the point they both need replacing. As another favor, I will even let him have the xylocaine I stole before I do so) and smash the front and back windshields of his vehicles. The two acts involve efforts (which he is definitely lacking now when it comes to me…hell, they are non-existent), money (crimping his cross country flights) and pain. Although I do believe he does not do what he does intentionally or maliciously (he is just that damned stupid) and that he may be the one man I do hurt as much as he hurts me…he needs to feel it on the level I do. Yeah, I am a tit for tat sort of chick and if you cannot take it, stop dishing it. One good thing about the sledgehammer, when PC/CP reaches the status of the first three, that sledgehammer would put a nice sized hole in his head…to match the other ones already there.
Of course, I hope you readers are smart enough to know I would never actually utilize weapons in a way to end someone’s life or even utilize the weapons period. I am a dirty fighter but not that dirty. No, these weapons and the ways I would use them against these men live strictly in my imagination and dreams. Let’s consider it a coping skill. It is a way of releasing my anger against both myself and them and ideally, it takes the focus off them but in my twisted labyrinth of a brain, even when faced with what were their faults, their flaws and why it just was doomed from the start…I still wonder what is it with me, why can’t I find love? But I am going to shelve my pursuit for love and personal relationships for now…I have health issues that need my full attention and a job that I need to be applying my efforts towards. There just isn’t enough time to dwell on what was or to put efforts towards people who do not see them, appreciate them or want them. I am sick and tired of being the understanding, patient and supportive one only to get the shit end of the stick each and every time. Apparently, when it comes to relationships, I am the one doing it wrong.
Going to wrap this post up…need to be domestic, get a shower, take a nap and write a couple more posts which I am crossing fingers will not be PC/CP or relationship related. As always, thanks for stopping past and reading and as usual…enjoy your day!