This is supposed to be my personal blog. My place to write and keep track of all the things I learn and go through and every so often I get retarded and I fuck it up and have to start over, but reguardless this is supposed to be my space. So why is it that when I have had probably the worst weekend in I do not know how long, I don’t feel like I cannot write about it? Well the answer to that is really quite simple, because as soon as I write about it everyone I know is going to know what I am talking about, and then shit is really…….naw actually shit has pretty much already hit the fucking fan. Okay, here goes:
So for a lot of this summer I spent my time with the lovely lady V (From here on out referred to as “The Little One”, you’ll understand why later). We had a great time, she was fun and humorous, she was kind hearted and sweet and generous, she was everything you could want in a friend. (DUN DUN DUN) Seriously? I’m not joking when I say her dark side is like Darth Vader Dark.
Bitch should have been a fucking writer, because no one writes drama like this girl.
Instead of me putting it into sentences let’s just make a list shall we? According to this girl:
- My very good friend was cheating on her boyfriend, who’d flown half way across the country to build a life for them
- She was stealing V’s clothes, make up and mail
- She was having us followed
- Our houses were being watched day and night because she’s so important to her family clan that her father wants to make sure we’re all safe
- admits to Knowingly and deliberately entering into a three person relationship, broke up a marriage and refuses to acknowledge any remorse or responsibility for her actions
and on and on and on and on it went. You know the sad part? It is really hard to tell when a pathological liar is lying, even when it seems (which it did) as if they may be lying they have a way to drag you back in. For instance plenty of times we would drive somewhere over the summer and it would “seem” as if we were being followed, more often than not? it was her imagination and of course as she was driving you just assumed she was telling the truth. Almost sounds like the acts of a drug addict…without the actual excuse of you know, drugs.
And on and on it would go, until I finally had some time to sit back last weekend and go over some of the shit in my head, and suddenly it was lightbulbs going off every damned where, and bells and whistles and it was not pretty.
So while the little one was away the Nurse sent me a text “Hey let’s meet up for coffee I’ll treat you” I started to cry. You see as a direct result of the lies, the manipulation and the bullshit I had hurt this person this lovely mother of three, and she didn’t even know it. So I called her up and told her the entire ugly truth, everything I had done, I had told her about my less then stellar behavior and everything. You know what she did? The fucking nutcase forgave me. Yeup, after I told her how awful I was, and how I’d been so angry at her, and I had been lead to believing all these awful things about her, this wonderful truly kind hearted spirit forgave me. The little one did not get off so lucky, but maybe thats the point! Maybe when you grow up believing your a princess, the God’s throw a wrench at you to bring you down to earth, the sad part is that for weeks I said something like this was going to happen -sigh- It appears that people are still refusing to listen to my better instincts…….including myself.
To my lovely nurse I love you, thank you for being so wonderful. To the little one……..grow up.