This shouldn’t be complicated. 

I only want two things. I want someone to believe in me, and I want someone to fight for me. That’s it. It’s that simple. 

My last two relationships blew up in my face. They were both men that promised me something they couldn’t commit to. I was hurt. I tried so hard, and I remained their friends. I’m supportive. I cheer for them. I want the best for them. I know it will never progress. 

I fought for them. I loved them. I sacrificed for them. I would bend nearly in half. I was in. Both times. And, it didn’t work. They couldn’t, or wouldn’t, come through for me consistently. They were both so broken, and I was ill equipped to fix them. 

And, I gave up. After minutes, months, and years of doing my part, I gave up. Do you know how hard it is to walk away from someone who tells you they love you? It’s devestating. Because if you’d said that you didn’t love me it would all make sense. 

I tried. I know I tried.

That time I was crazy…

…there’s just the one time. And, I will NOT be accepting any comments from any exes, LOL. 

So, I’ve already confessed that the last major guy ended our psycho relationship-type thing. No surprises. No worries. It needed to end, and I was too blinded by love or something like it to pull the trigger. I appreciate him for setting us free. 

But…

But, it was done so shady and unexpected that I became absolutely crazy. Like broken hearted, and angry, crazy. It wasnt a good look. 

When he blocked me from Facebook. Yep, dude blocked me from Facebook even though I’d never posted on his page, linked anything to him, or even chose an emotion other than like on one of his posts. Really, dude?

 <insert profanity and name calling>

That’s cool. You think I’m that type of girl after all this time? Wow? Really?

Wait. Maybe I’m so vain, I just think this is about me. Maybe it’s not what I’m capable of. Maybe it’s what you’re capable of. Maybe you’re blasting me all over your FB. Maybe you’re finally able to post pictures of the girl you were running back and forth too. Maybe you did SOMETHING! 

I don’t know. Blind rage. Blind passion. Blind everything. 

And, it steered the ship right into insanity. I jumped on FB and created a profile with one of my other email addresses, using my old alter ego from ’99. I knew she would come in handy again. I accepted every friend request I got, and I sent him one after I’d built up a good following. I never friended any of my real friends because I was terrified they’d see right through me. I used the first and last name I’d given every bogus dude  from ’99 to motherhood, claimed one of my old jobs, and a combination of my brother and sister’s birthdays. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to hide behind. I was proud of how ridiculous I was being. 

And then, I topped off my wine glass for the third time. 

I kept that page for a few weeks. I checked it every couple of days, faithfully. I was just waiting for him to post something disrespectful. But, what was I gonna do??? Would I post, “Ah ha!”? Would I “like” it with the angry face? No. I couldn’t out myself as being as crazy as I was behaving. I had to let go. I had to stop. And, I met someone that third week that started to occupy all my stalking time. 

I closed the FB window. I let go of all the fake friends I’d accumulated, and I decided to never be that crazy again. Low levels of crazy are okay, though. 

Then, I was outed. 

Because, I LOVE my blog. I. LOVE. MY. BLOG. This is my truth. It’s therapy. It helps me process all the relationship things swimming around in my head. It typically keeps me from being THAT crazy.

And because my ego is attached to my viewership, I have my blog set to auto-post to my social media accounts. Genius, right? Only when you don’t have a secondary, and fake, FB account that it automatically picks up. My blog has been auto posting to my fake FB for months. And, I haven’t noticed until now. 

I wondered why it stopped auto posting. Was getting really upset about it. I’d even reached out to the team at WordPress. Then, people smarter than me realized it was auto posting, just as it was supposed too, to my other account. OMG! I could have died, but instead I killed over in laughter. That’s exactly what I deserved!

Every blog I had written posted to my fake account, but nothing else. I hadn’t even logged on in months. Nothing screams it’s me better than a profile full of only my blog links, LMAO!

After going through the remember my password options on FB, I found my fake self, laughed again, and put her to bed. Done. 

My ego isn’t totally intact, but who cares. That was hilarious!

“What a wicked way, to treat the girl that loves you…”

“What a wicked way to treat the girl that loves you…”

I’m not much of a Beyoncé fan. Just telling the truth. I think she’s talented, but I don’t subscribe to the beehive. 

But when you’re picking your heart up off the floor and your emotions have been spinning out of control, an album like Lemonade will speak to you. 

Right now the song Hold Up means everything to me. I know, I’m late. 

“What’s worse, looking jealous or crazy?”

I still don’t know, and I’ve been both. 

It’s over now. I wish I could say I got the strength to walk away, but really he cancelled the insanity. I would still be deep in dumb shit, wondering when it would end. Actually, I was praying it would get better. I’m not sure why. 

This was a horrible relationship, but he only did what I allowed. I wasn’t his victim. I was madly in love with a man that wasn’t ready for me to be madly in love with him.

He pushed me away, and I ran back. I was like a stray cat, and he fed me. He kept feeding me. I didn’t know if I was supposed to stay or move on. It was emotional chaos. 

Ouch. 

It’s not my finest hour, or 105120+ hours, or 1095+ days, or 156+ weeks, or 36+ months, or 3+ years. 

It was a foolish relationship, and that’s not typically me. I usually keep my head on straight. I don’t get caught up in the silliness of love. I love with logic and stay rational. I listen to my head. I examine every reservation. Usually. 

I’m not embarrassed. I’m still a little wounded. Still hurt. But, I’m rational on the other side. I’m feeling strong. And, I’m going to be just fine. 

I feel like myself again.

I am insane…well I was. 


I got my feelings hurt over the weekend. It’s a basic situation. I defined insanity. I expected someone to be more than they are capable of being. 

People show you who they are everyday. You must believe them. Even when you want them to be more. Even when you believe in them. Even when you love them. You must believe them. Because they’re trying to convince you of the truth. They are telling you that nothing will ever be any better than it is. Because this is who they are. 

So be grateful that it didn’t go any further than it went. Be grateful that it didn’t break you in half, and that you made it out stronger than before you went through it. 

Thank you for hurting my feelings, this time. I’m devastated. If that was your goal, you should be proud. You got me right before I thought I loved you. 

Chapter Next…


My last relationship was difficult, not every day but a solid 75/25 split. I tried everything to make it work to a point I was working against him for our greater good. I held on with both hands through the bumpiest ride, across cliffs, and into swamps. I ended up emotionally drained. Felt any conversation about what was happening would end with a critical look at me and everything I was doing wrong. I was analyzed to death. I had analyzed to death. It was too much. I wanted too much. I was giving up too much. I doubted there was anything better. Was thinking I was supposed to see this through for both of us. 

Because…

We’re so good when we’re together.

He said he loves me. 

He said he wants this. 

So, I stood in the same place and held on for dear life. I prayed for something, anything. I knew I was wasting my life standing there waiting for him to value all I was bringing to the table, even if he wasn’t ready, or willing, to receive it. I knew it. But, I’d invested too much to walk away. Right?

I prayed for something different. 

And, in walks the new guy. And, he’s totally different. And, he’s happy to be here. And, we’re enjoying what’s happening with no hang ups and expectations. 

I have expectations, but I haven’t told him. My agenda isn’t ready to be exposed. He doesn’t need to know I want to be a wife one day and that I’d love to have another kid. He doesn’t need to know how much I hate to sleep alone and that if you can get me to laugh you have me for life. 

He just needs to know I’m not going for the same silly stuff I went for before. I’m not investing without an investment. And, this could be the most incredible adventure he’s ever been on. 

So, am I really done with the last guy? He’s been the subject of 75% (give or take) of the last 2 years worth of blogs. 

Really? 

Yes. 

I don’t wanna live that life ever again. I don’t wanna go back to those feelings. And, I realize that he doesn’t want to do any of that with me either. It’s fine. I’m happy that chapter is finally over. But, I did love him. And, I own that. Maybe he held me in that place so I’d be here for the new guy or the next guy. 

Today, I’m happy again. I feel in control. And, the new guy is really handsome, incredibly attentive, and laughs at all my jokes. 

And…

Thank you to my friends who listened quietly, while I ranted over the last couple of years, when I know they wanted to shake me. 

XOXO

I’m tired. 

  
So, it may be over. Should be. I don’t know if I should jump up and down or cry in the corner. It’s just too blah. Too basic. Too underwhelming. Too tired. 

Nothing got better. Nothing improved. I always felt disregarded and disrespected. I never got to be a priority. I never felt desired…not while my clothes were on at least. 

I heard “love,” and I held on to that with both hands. 

But, he never asked me how I was doing, what I needed, or what I wanted. I never felt like he was in my corner, cheering from the sidelines, or was my soft spot to fall. He didn’t come through when claimed he would. He never apologized when he fell short. 

I tried. Still trying. Wanted it to work. But, he ain’t there, ain’t ready, and ain’t going for it. That’s unfortunate, because I put my guard down for him. 

SMH

You don’t deserve me. I don’t deserve you. 

  
I tried. I was genuine. I was honest. 

You don’t deserve me. 

You were manipulative and immature. 

I don’t deserve you.

I heard that you loved me, and that’s beautiful. Thanks. But love is an action word and you haven’t been showcasing those actions…for me. You haven’t been kind and considerate. You haven’t been courteous and consistent. You hurt me for no reason. 

I didn’t deserve for you to play in my life, tie up my emotions, and keep me from finding someone real. I didn’t deserve that. 

And, you didn’t deserve for me to give you unlimited chances, try to hold on through it all, or push you to figure things out. 

It was all too much. 

You never deserved me, and I didn’t deserve you. 

Disclaimer: 

Wow. I wrote this 79 days ago. I can remember the emotions tied to it like they are fresh. It was a rough time. It was a painful moment. 

Realizing that someone will never be who you want them to be, no matter how much love, support, and understanding you give them is…I don’t even have a word for that emotion. It sucked. And, I was in a bad place. 

Then, I realized we didn’t deserve each other. And, that was powerful for me. I didn’t do anything to deserve the amount of disrespect and disregard I got in that relationship. It wasn’t me. It had nothing to do with me. It’s his issue. And, he didn’t deserve the love and sacrifice I was offering. He wasn’t ready to value me. 

Not the end of the world. 

Dusting myself off. 

Ready to move on. 

Today, 79 days and countless tears later, I’m no longer hurt. I’m not even mad. I’m good actually. Because I see him for who he is, and I govern myself and my emotions accordingly.