What's worse than breaking up? What's worse than being called a monster? What's worse than your boyfriend telling you he needs space "to heal" because you've hurt him so very much?
I'll tell you, its when you call to hear his voice because you've been going through the most stressful time ever and he says "I just can't be there for you right now, I need to focus on myself."
Tell me if this sounds like I'm a monster...
My boyfriend has been sick for a month straight. No don't worry he doesn't have cancer. He got flu, then he got an eye infection, then he got cocksackie virus (look it up I didn't know it even existed) then he got gastro flu. I'm moving from the house I've lived in for four years with a very fussy cat and a painfully sentimental personality that makes me shiver in anxiety at the mention of any form of change.
I left for the weekend to see my family who I haven't seen in months. He dropped me off at the airport.
I had a lovely weekend, family drama aside and was really depressed and sad about leaving knowing the time of moving was looming, getting closer and closer.
I was already at the airport when I get a message from him telling me that he can't pick me up because his legs are extremely painful and he's nauseous and feverish but he's going to send his brother. I was worried but I thought, ok this is the cocksackie virus again. Shame my poor darling I hope he's ok. I was grateful he asked his brother but was kind of sad that I wouldn't see him when I got off the plane.
I got to Johannesburg and he didn't even send me a message to see if I got home safe. The next day he managed to inform me that he couldnt come over because he was too sick, I appreciated that because cancelling last minute is a big thing for me. But he couldn't even say I miss you? I love you?
Tuesday he still didn't ask me, yes sure the obligatory 'how r u doin?' on whatsapp. Oh yes did I mention I hadn't spoken to him in almost a week- apparently the only way we could communicate was on whatsapp. Let me also explain that when he;s sick I'm not allowed to go over to his place because he prefers being alone.
So by Wednesday when we were still speaking on Whatsapp I lost it. I knew I was being mean but I just couldn't take it anymore. I told him rather not come to help us move because my dad would be angry if he couldn't lift stuff on the day or cancelled on the day. Yes I know it wasn't the right time but was I wrong?
He totally went apeshit! Sending me all Caps messages over whatsapp- I thought I was in for a Carrie-like rage.
Ok so lets skip to the conclusion. He doesnt feel safe with me, he thinks I make him feel pathetic and weak, I need to not be so cold and just understand that he's the sickest and unluckiest guy in the world (oh but God forbid I call him sickly!) I apparently have tons of issues that he can't help me with anymore and he needs to be alone so that he's not at risk anymore.
I tell you what i think by now he's spontaneously grown about three vaginas in secret places around his body.
Oh wait the last statement actually just turned his entire head into a giant vagina- "I just can't be there for you right now, I need to focus on myself."
Goodbye to weak men, girls. I'm not being sexist here but seriously be as strong as you can be, don't indulge in illness because your partner can't handle things. Don't date a guy who's looking for a mother. A girlfriend and a mother are too different things. He thinks I placed expectations on him? I'm 26-fucking-years old and I was having a teenage romance where we saw eachother twice a week and messaged a few times a week over whatsapp. I never dragged him to any of my media events unless he wanted to come (yes free stays at the Palazzo hotel as part of the media team are just too good to pass up), I never forced him to be with my friends or family, I never asked for flowers, holidays, anything. That's it I'm done. Look at the expectations he's put on me! To sit quietly and be waiting silently in the shadows until he got better, to understand things that were in conflict with my own upbringing, to have a relationship on only his terms.
I tell you, I am done.
Tuesday 29 April 2014
Friday 25 April 2014
Why we don't write
I read an Adrian Mole novel once, I think it was meant to be the last one in the series, which proclaimed that "happy people don't write".
Just as most of the milestones in my life have had to do with my one significant love story so did this blog. Yes I am in fact pathetic, I attest to it myself.
So I started the blog to prove something to myself especially since I've always considered myself a writer but at the time, in 2012 I wasn't writing. You can't call yourself a writer if you don't write, right?
So the love of my life and I broke up with me and I needed an outlet and did it help...No! because like the idiot I am I then became friends with said ex-boyfriend and then felt like I couldn't post how sad I was feeling or how much I wanted to staple his balls to the cupboard door and kick the shit out of him. Ofcourse not!
In fact the point of this blog became so obscured and so ridiculous that he even started sharing my blog posts on Facebook to all his friends saying how proud of me he was. But no we were not together at this time in fact that show Friendzone became my televised bible.
And then last year in July I got a great job! Maybe not much to some but I was a writer again because I was writing and people were reading. I became the journalist of a community newspaper which is part of a huge South African conglomerate based on advertising. But a journalist none the less. So that, somehow, coincided with him and I trying again. And that literally just happened! One minute we were lying next to eachother on the couch the next minute we were a couple.
And then I literally just stopped writing on this blog. I don't know what it was. Was it the fact that I was expelling my creative angst somewhere else writing about potholes and horse tack being stolen and interviewing owners of music schools and dog-owners whose pets won best in show? Or was it that he and I were together so suddenly I was theoretically "happy" and therefore didn't need a writing outlet anymore? I didn't need anyone else to share my opinions because he shared my opinions, I didn't give a damn what people thought was funny because I entertained him and that's all that mattered.
I don't know. I mean, someone in my newsroom disclosed the shocking fact that she writes four blogs simultaneously! I find this inconceivable because one meeting with a local councilor gets me to bed by 20:30.
Yet somehow I feel like its not the job, its because him and I are on the rocks and there doesn't seem to be a way out. One of my best friend's who is a filmmaker has a theory that women can't create when they're attached while men can only create when they're attached hence muses. I'm inclined to agree.
Just as most of the milestones in my life have had to do with my one significant love story so did this blog. Yes I am in fact pathetic, I attest to it myself.
So I started the blog to prove something to myself especially since I've always considered myself a writer but at the time, in 2012 I wasn't writing. You can't call yourself a writer if you don't write, right?
So the love of my life and I broke up with me and I needed an outlet and did it help...No! because like the idiot I am I then became friends with said ex-boyfriend and then felt like I couldn't post how sad I was feeling or how much I wanted to staple his balls to the cupboard door and kick the shit out of him. Ofcourse not!
In fact the point of this blog became so obscured and so ridiculous that he even started sharing my blog posts on Facebook to all his friends saying how proud of me he was. But no we were not together at this time in fact that show Friendzone became my televised bible.
And then last year in July I got a great job! Maybe not much to some but I was a writer again because I was writing and people were reading. I became the journalist of a community newspaper which is part of a huge South African conglomerate based on advertising. But a journalist none the less. So that, somehow, coincided with him and I trying again. And that literally just happened! One minute we were lying next to eachother on the couch the next minute we were a couple.
And then I literally just stopped writing on this blog. I don't know what it was. Was it the fact that I was expelling my creative angst somewhere else writing about potholes and horse tack being stolen and interviewing owners of music schools and dog-owners whose pets won best in show? Or was it that he and I were together so suddenly I was theoretically "happy" and therefore didn't need a writing outlet anymore? I didn't need anyone else to share my opinions because he shared my opinions, I didn't give a damn what people thought was funny because I entertained him and that's all that mattered.
I don't know. I mean, someone in my newsroom disclosed the shocking fact that she writes four blogs simultaneously! I find this inconceivable because one meeting with a local councilor gets me to bed by 20:30.
Yet somehow I feel like its not the job, its because him and I are on the rocks and there doesn't seem to be a way out. One of my best friend's who is a filmmaker has a theory that women can't create when they're attached while men can only create when they're attached hence muses. I'm inclined to agree.
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