Diamonds & Douche-bags

~The fight for you is all I've ever known~

           My sister got engaged on Christmas Eve in front of our entire family-which is HUGE because apparently everyone in my family likes to fuck.  (so I guess technically it's in my genes and I can't help it.) If you knew my sister, you'd know that she's loves "the show" and wouldn't have wanted it any other way. ( I suggested that he rent dancing ladies and circus midgets to add to the event, but he didn't bite.)

Awww! Aren't they cute! 

      I affectionately call her "the queen".  She is blonde and beautiful and what every man wants and every girl wants to be.  Which really sucks for me because I am brunette and not beautiful.  I am older than her yet envy her in ways I am not proud to admit.  However, as much as I hate to admit it, I am very happy for her.  She got a big fat diamond and I got a big fat heartache.

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           Thursday night Shamus finally came over to see my new house.  Not that he didn't want to come over, but I blew him off for a few days just to get him going.  I know. I'm horrible. But ya gotta keep them guessing.   I wanted to get everything semi settled before he came to see and I had my family in and out for days.  The last thing I need is for my parents to walk in on me and my married boyfriend going at it.

        So Thursday I had a few bev's (bev's=beverages=vodka) and gave him the "A-OK" to stop. I won't bore you with the explicit details of me answering the door in questionable attire and the events to follow. But-  IT. WAS. WONDERFUL. ( It's not JUST about that guys! Ok well maybe it kinda is.)  But honest and truly, I was so excited to show him my house and especially my bedroom. ;)   We had a great time and I was all happy and warm and fuzzy.  My little crazy thoughts turned to visions of him leaving the bitch and living with me happily ever after.  Ya know, Normal.

The next day was Christmas Eve.  I texted him a couple times and he seemed absolutely miserable. Do you hear that?! That's "En Vogue" singing Back to Life. Back to Reality.  What the fuck did I do?!? Of course the one day of the year that I could use a little reinforcement that I'm not completely insane and risking EVERYTHING for the man I love is not in vain, he wants to be a dick.  Is it guilt? How can we have such a great time not even 12 hours before?

     So here I am again.  Battling the internal debate between what I think this is and what it really is.  I can't remember the last time I actually addressed this with him.  It's so much easier to just go on the way things are than face the possibility that if I ask him to choose he may do just that.  And not choose me.  I don't understand how this could go on for 10 years and not be more than just a piece of ass.  So what the fuck do I do now? I can't remember me without all of this. Who fuck am I anyway?

Note: He wasn't always married.  He has only been married for about 3 years.  We got in a horrible fight one time and within six months he was engaged, etc.  He called me the night before is wedding and gave me all kinds of happy horse shit about "jumping the gun" and "making a mistake" and then proceeded to call me on his wedding day also. 




Fuck me running.