Category: Bad Boyfriend Behavior


This had the potential to be an AMAZING story, but unfortunately, the texts between him and I that I had planned on transcribing were deleted in my phone. Shit happens. So we begin -

One day at work, a certain company that brings things to us had a new employee as our delivery person. I remember hearing my managers talking to him, and hearing him say the phrase, “I NEVER WANT TO BE MARRIED.”

Weeks later, he came again, this time as our new regular delivery person. I didn’t recognize him, but he said something to me, and suddenly it hit me. “You’re the guy that never wants to be married, right?” I asked him. He agreed, then started to defend himself. “No, it’s okay, I don’t want to be married either. I just remember you telling my boss that last time.”

And he left.

 

About an hour later, there’s a phone call for me. I answered and a sexy male voice asked if I would give him my number. Once I realized who it was, I immediately gave it to him. And when I hung up I think I probably giggled. He is tall, covered in tattoos, has long salt and pepper hair that he sometimes wears in a bun, and these sexy black glasses. And of course, he smokes, which is a big turn on for me.

Silly little child that I am, I was EXCITED. He was adorable, and he called my job to get my phone number!

 

Two hours later, I had my reality check. His text message was just, “why never marrie?”

1. spelling error.

2. starting with a stupid question.

 

We went back and forth with text messages for about a week and a half. It started off discussing why I don’t believe in marriage, and went on asking superficial questions. One in particular-

- do you have a boyfriend?

__ no, do you?

- no.

His texts were filled with awful spelling errors, really dumb things, and a lot of “are you there?”s whenever I didnt immediately answer. I had originally saved the text in hopes of transcribing it to this website, but unfortunately, shit happens and it got deleted.

He asked if i was “Promisicuos” because he was promiscuous. I told him no, i wasn’t, and that I liked to get to know guys before doing anything with them. He basically said he wanted to mess around, but would be okay with “just” making out so we could get to know each other. I was reluctant, but he was adorable, so I agreed. He even offered to let me set boundaries, so I would feel comfortable.

The morning we agreed to meet, I was off from work but awoken by a text message at 5am from him, asking if I was excited, because he was. Uh, yea, I said. I gave him directions (he was coming from NJ) and met him outside, in his delivery truck. He had taken time out of his route to come to my neighborhood and make out with me. Either he liked me, or he was desperate.

I got in his truck and we talked and smoked for about ten minutes. Then we went to the back of the truck and just made out for a little while. I had exactly one hour with him, because that was all that could be afforded on his route. The next day I saw him at work, where we each said hello, I signed the paper, made a joke, and he left.

That was the last I heard from him. He was out sick for a couple of weeks, but in that time, he had stopped texting me. One day, my managers were discussing him. Just general things about his torn knee or something. But then, one of them said, “ISN’T HIS GIRLFRIEND, OR WIFE HAVING HER BABY SOON?”

“what.” I said. “I thought he ‘never wanted to be married?’”

“Oh, well then his girlfriend. Isn’t her baby due soon?”

Then I saw him one week, and the next, and the next. I just ignored him, because he had stopped talking to me. And eventually, one day two men showed up 4 hours later than usual to take his route.

“Oh, where’s Charles?” I innocently asked.

HIS WIFE JUST HAD HER BABY THIS MORNING,” he said.

“His wife? Did he just get married? I didn’t realize he was.”

“No, he’s been married for a LONG TIME.”

 

Ouch. So I sent him a text: Congrats on the baby. Your wife must be proud.

 

The next time I saw him, he said good morning to me. I asked him why the FUCK he was talking to me. “I’m just a nice guy,” he claimed. “Well don’t fucking talk to me.” I told him. Ever since then, he doesn’t look at me, speak to me, or walk near me. He finds someone else to sign the papers, I’ve even caught him walking around the island display so that he isn’t near me.

 

But the happy part of this tale is that Karma is a bitch. Recently, he came to my job in a bad mood. Someone complained, and my boss told that person to take it easy on him, because he just found out his WIFE WAS CHEATING ON HIM AND HE WASN’T SURE THAT HER BABY WAS HIS.

I laughed.

 

I know—–

It comes when you’re not looking for it.”

“No one’s going to love you if you don’t love yourself.”

“Stop dwelling on the past.”

“You don’t need someone to make you happy.”

“Forgive and forget.”

Those and many more cliches can suck my dick.

I’m bitter. I do not forgive him for breaking my heart and I do not want to see him happy. I want him to hurt the way he hurt me. I don’t want him to even exist anymore; I want his entire life to be an all consuming hell of the worst kind of misery. That wallop of a shitty breakup has left me irreparably damaged. Honestly, I want to be with someone. I do. But even if I did meet someone and start a relationship, I would be forever questioning it. I honestly don’t think I’d believe anything a man ever said to me. I’d constantly be doubting whether he actually felt anything, or was just with me until something better came along. I’d be consumed with paranoia, trying to read into absolutely everything, looking for imaginary hints to pick up on. I’d be always on the edge of my seat, waiting for the moment he decided to stop contact.
Because that’s just what my ex did. We never broke up. He just stopped answering the phone, stopped calling me. I can definitely handle being dumped. But I can’t handle being literally thrown away. Like a piece of garbage. Because garbage doesn’t need to talk about why you don’t want it, garbage doesn’t have to be lied to, garbage doesn’t have feelings or a point of view. Garbage will just accept its place in the trash.
Unfortunately, I’m actually a person. So when my ex had locked himself away and even his close friends hadn’t heard from him, I was naively concerned. I thought his depression was getting worse and that maybe he would do something stupid. Eventually a mutual friend drove me to his house so we could check on him. It was like nothing was wrong. One excuse he had for not answering the phone was because he was “drinking a lot” and he knew I’d be mad. Oh okay. So now I’m just in love with an alcoholic.
I ended up asking him if he needed time, wanted to break up, wanted space, etc. to deal with whatever he was going through. His reply had been “No. I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” Ah, yes. Young, naive. We worked it out for about two more weeks when he did it again. Just fell off the face of the earth. Of course, this time I actually caught on that he was ditching me. So I was busy flirting with all of the adorable foreign boys at work, falling into hopeless crushes on guys who would soon be gone to Europe.
I kept calling him, just to see when I could go get my things. It took about a month for him to randomly answer the phone. A month. We hadn’t even technically broke up. In any case, I told him I was coming by to get my things. My first serious relationship. My cherry popper. My naive “love.”
He opened the door and said, “Hey, how’s it going?” as if i just casually stopped to have a beer. The whole time I was there he had this aloof conversation going. And when I left, he said, “Thanks for stopping by, it was nice seeing you.” Excuse me? Really? My supposed boyfriend just treated me like someone he barely knew. HE WAS INSIDE ME. His cock was in my mouth any chance I could get it there and now it was as if he didn’t even know me. Great. What’s worse is that I ditched the sweetest guy ever to start dating this disaster. At least I was honest with him though, and tried to be nice. I didn’t just randomly break off contact.

In any case, I feel justly bitter. Sometimes this “experience” doesn’t mean shit to me, and other times I feel like it has deeply affected/changed me. Aside from the trust and paranoia issues, I went through a bit of a slutty phase immediately following that…. “breakup.” I am not blaming anyone for the shit I do, but I definitely needed to prove to myself that someone actually wanted me, and that I wouldn’t be alone forever. Naturally, that meant I basically threw myself at everyone I thought was adorable.
I’m not saying I REALLY slutted it up, but I definitely was not acting as I used to. I had standards before. I wanted everything to be momentous. I even had issues with kissing… there were plenty of awkward moments after my hand reflexively went up to block a kiss from someone on just a first date. It took a lot for me to feel comfortable with someone enough to even let them hug me. But now that I had lost it to some douche bag, I figured I had to make up for lost time.
Don’t get the wrong idea, I can still count on one hand…… well anyway. I ended up making out with plenty of guys in bars, friends of friends, meeting guys off of the internet, etc. I learned a lot about kissing, at least. I had originally thought I didn’t even enjoy kisses. Now I know it was just the guys I was kissing. Some guys got a little more. Some got a little less. It was fun to feel attractive and wanted, to have someone just grab you and push you against the brick wall of an alley to kiss you. I certainly felt a fuck of a lot better than I did when I would call a phone that just kept… ringing.
I also learned the power of breasts. Any time I felt lonely I just had to go out in something low cut. Of course, eventually that wasn’t enough. I fell in love with my boobs, my tits, my tatas. They helped me from feeling lonely. I discovered picture messaging. To guys I really liked, whose attention I craved, out went my boobs. I had their attention, and I loved it. Something real, but superficial.
But apparently, guys don’t like the kind of girl I became. The kind of girl who sends you a picture of her boobs just because she has a crush on you, well, she isn’t the kind of girl you end up dating. In fact, I seem to have developed a sort of Good Luck Chuck syndrome. In that movie, Chuck fucks a girl, and the next guy she dates, she ends up marrying. Well in my case, I make out with a guy I like, and within the next two weeks he suddenly has a girlfriend. Here’s a hint: it’s never me.
I honestly believe I’m going to be alone forever, just me and my cats, turning the hose on pedestrians who walk too close to my yard. Talking to the television, feeding the cats from my dinner plate, wearing mumus, that’s me.

Bitter and alone.

 

 

 

And no fucking comments about getting over it and being over dramatic etc. I’m fucking venting. You vent, I’m allowed to vent too. You don’t like it, don’t fucking read it.

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