Lessons...learning them is tough

So I’m gong to start by saying remember the kitten-killer ex-nigel? Well I decided to apparently give myself amnesia and get involved with him. Why? Cause I got dumped by my girlfriend and I didn’t really feel like dealing with that. And he was being all nice and I thought “PIV-ing you used to be fun. I remember that. Let’s do that again, just for kicks and giggles.”

Then of course I remember both why I quit doing that and why I always turned him down when he asked for a “Relationship.” Because it’s a stupid fucking idea.

Immediately after aforementioned PIV I was consumed with paranoia that I was pregnant. Why? Probably because maybe I was, that’s what that activity is for and contraceptives are a total fucking joke. And I was out of the state that I currently live in and back in the “bible belt.” Which is “oh shit now” for: I can’t get a goddamned abortion unless I either take my ass back to where I’m from or go through some hardcore shit, like waiting periods, protestors, a definite fight about how to get that financed and who knows maybe a vaginal probe or something. And a note from the president. And a psychiatrist who says for real though I’m murdering both me and the parasite like HARD if they don’t do this. And a chest of faerie treasure. And whatever. I fucking HATE that state. And that clarified a whole lot of the why.

So I’m like crying because the crushing notion that I might be having kitten killer’s spawn is enough to reduce me to tears. For like two days. And he? Is overjoyed. Cause we’re having a BABY!!!! And hey, what am I so worried about, he’s got a job and I’m like two days late and maybe I don’t know when my period’s supposed to happen and it’s not like he’d try to ditch child support. And we can get married and be a family! I don’t know if he’s trying to make me barf and die or if he seriously things any of this ought to sound good to me, but really the nonstop crying ought to give a clue. But of course there’s always the not-unlikely possibility that it’s not a misunderstanding at all. And he understands clearly what I am feeling. And doesn’t give a SHIT because he gets what he wants out of it, which is trapping me.

Well I decided fuck that. I decided I’m going to take what cash I’ve got, greyhound back to the slightly less misogynist, but much better appointed city that I had nearly un-relocated from and get myself a fucking baby killer bumper sticker. And on the way my period started. WOO YEAH!

Oh and there are MORE WORDS about that pile of bullshit. First off, when I told him that that was what was happening and letting go of the fantasy that I would be dealing with that shit is imperative, he told me that is ex-Miss did that. And that he still hates her for it. He told me that ex-Miss had a miscarriage. Convenient timing for a rewrite. I guess that was some attempt to dissuade me. But dude fuck you, you’re gonna have to hate me because just like her, I find it imperative not to be stuck with your ass. As they say I’m not trying to buy a whole pig just to get a bit of sausage. And really that’s not that great. I think it managed to get over-valued because I hadn’t spent enough time with ladies. Because really, while a consuming diversion even that’s not all that and a bag of chips. I guess that explains why it had been nearly years before the relapse and I had spent that time not really giving a shit about its absence.

And in addition to that rather stressful guilt trip attempt, there is also an argument that we had. Well not really that as much as we both got so mad we just lapsed into silence and I booked tickets out of there on my phone and went to sleep and he played video games (because apparently I failed to notice that I was entangling myself with a literal child.) We had an argument about men’s violence. We had been talking about marriage (no I wasn’t considering it, but apparently he was trying to talk me into doing so but failing to point out any advantage it would have for me whatsoever.) He said that there’s no point in getting into one if you’re going to break it off, I said that nobody intends for it not to work, but if you’re brutally unhappy then rolling out makes more sense than dealing with endless drudgery because you promised you would. His response was that no matter how unhappy someone is, if they take the vows they should stay. And that he doesn’t believe in divorce. I was like “whut?” and said that idea implies that someone is your property, because if you didn’t feel you owned them then you wouldn’t feel entitled to try to force them to stay against their will. I followed that by saying the attitude that a woman is property is what leads to thousands of women, just in this country being killed ever year, because a woman is more likely to be killed by her Nigel upon leaving him than any other time.

He said that I “really wouldn’t like what he had to say about that” and kind of cackled. At this point I was rather fully livid, in fact I was so angry that I was speaking in measured, civil tones. When I’m seriously angry I cross the line into very quiet and serious speech. I asked him “what is it that he has to say?” Basically fucking dared him to complete that thought.

He said he doesn’t really give a shit about them. Which no shit, of course men don’t really give a shit about violence against women. If they did, then they wouldn’t perpetrate it.

I said that just because someone hurts his sorry ass fee fees and decides they’ve had enough of his bullshit doesn’t give him a right to do anything except fucking cry about it. And that it’s pathetic how boys go into little fits and rages of wounded pride and hurt feelings. That more than anything I think it’s worth laughing at anyone who failed to grow enough of a sense of adult responsibility for their actions and feelings to just get over shit when they don’t get what they want. And that any guy that attempts violence because of hurt feelings should face the death penalty because we really can’t afford to keep them in cages and feed them forever. And that any attempt to do some shit like that to me would result in a very grisly death because crimes of passion can go two ways and I’m very passionate about not being ended by some pathetic shit like that. And I laughed at him. Heartily and honestly. And left in the morning with a big grin on my face. After getting back that $20 he’s owed me forever. By the way, this nigel has never been my “boyfriend” because I think he’s mostly fucking useless, and always have. The only difference is I thought he was mostly useless but a suitable transition activity. Well so that’s over with.

I almost wish I had been pregnant so that I could have the abortion and mail him photos. With a note saying “nobody will ever ever ever have your fucking babies because you’re a useless child. You should start a scrapbook of these.”