The Ugly Truth

Hello from my couch,

After an awesome night of darts and conversation with my dear friends Cassie and Cassie's boyfriend Matt aka le derp and le derp's boyfriend as I have come to call them, I have ended up in my living room watching The Ugly Truth. This has reminded me that I need to finish at least another part of the It's Time post.

I believe I left off with saying how much of a complete ass my ex boyfriend was/is/always will be. This will not be a "hate" blog, just simply stating the scientifically provable facts ;)

I hung up on Bryant and we didn't talk for a week. Not physically anyways. We texted each other a few times. You want to know what really makes me sick? I was the one who had to text him first. I even said I was sorry! I had nothing to be sorry for, but I said it. I thought I was important enough to him to at least get one phone call. I would have settled for smoke signals. I still loved him and I was hoping he cared enough for me to try. Apparently not so much.

I am the type of person who will apologize when I am wrong. Just last week Cassie called me a lightweight and for some reason I got offended and got mad at her. I had no right or reason to be mad over something like that. She didn't mean it as an insult, she was just being funny. I apologized to her for being mad and getting snappy. We have the type of friendship where apologies aren't really necessary. We fight for five minutes, get over whatever the problem was, and go back to talking about salsa or TV shows. But this time, I felt really bad so I said the two hardest words to combine in the English language, "I'm sorry."

We continued to text throughout the week and made plans to see each other that weekend to talk everything over. The texts were really dry and lacked meaning. I told him I was making special arrangements to come home. I already knew what the outcome of the weekend would be. It was over, and had been over for a while. I just really didn't want to deal with it. I wasn't really upset that we would be breaking up. I was disturbed because I knew what he was going to say. Perhaps a phone call would have sufficed had he picked up the phone the few times I admittedly tried to call.

Confession time, I wasn't a perfect angel through all of this. That Friday night, Bryant was working until at least 11 so I went to see an old friend of mine, Wesley. Just a friend. As bad as this sounds, I needed some sort of attention. I was craving it. I knew Bryant would be pissed if he found out and I didn't want to give him any reason to be mad at me so I didn't say anything. I received a text saying work was running late for him and that he would call me when he got off. He did call. I told him I was still in Jacksonville but that I could be home in 30 minutes. I felt bad, at the time it seemed like he really wanted to talk, like he missed me. He even sounded kind of hurt that I wasn't home. So, naturally, my soft hearted self started to change its mind. Maybe this could work. Bryant said he was tired and had to get up early in the morning for flag football and asked if we could do this when he got back that afternoon. I said it would be okay to wait until then.

Well, Saturday morning came and I waited for him. I got dressed up and did my hair and makeup, I was still trying to impress him. I put on this beautiful Lauren Conrad grey blazer and some Lauren Conrad coral colored skinny jeans. Gosh I love her clothes! They make me feel skinny and awesome! Hell, I even shaved my legs for this occasion! Listen up gents, if a girl shaves her legs for you, you should really take advantage of that. It means that we really love/like/care/want to do naughty things to you. Shaving legs is a long, painstaking process. Next time your girlfriend, fiance, wife or hoe on the side shaves her legs, thank her. *Hint Hint- use baby oil instead of shaving cream. It works so much better!*

I waited.... and waited... and waited.... He told me he was only playing one game that morning, maybe two tops. I couldn't imagine what was taking him so long. And then I got a text. "I am not going to be able to make it. Flag football is running over. Sorry." I literally wanted to flip a lid or kick a kitten! I was so over his fag football addiction. Yes, I did mean to say fag, that was not a typo. I am all for a healthy hobby but goodnight nurse Pam, eight games in one day is a bit over the top. He frequently played more than five games a day and it drove me nuts. I went one Saturday to be supportive of his hobby, I fell asleep in his friend's chair. I rigged it so it would recline back onto another chair. Pretty sure I swallowed a few bugs. Did a stupid game really mean more to him than I did? The girl who believed in him, believed he could do anything, even though he isn't going anywhere? It appeared so.

So what did I do? I texted him with an "Ok." OOOHHHH lawd let me tell you, I put every ounce of hatred I had in me for him at that time in that punctuation mark. Men, if your significant other rarely uses punctuation via text and she suddenly does, beware, you have done something awfully wrong. Apologize immediately.

After I sent him that text, I kicked off my flats, put my phone on silent, and fell into a glorious sleep. I will continue this tomorrow night. Sorry for all the pauses. It's just that this is a long story and I don't want these posts to be too long. People tend to get bored with long things, like those stupid FCAT stories about plants growing patterns. Don't want this to be on the same level as that.