the incogblogo

Friday, April 30, 2004

a story from Miss M.

Boy do I have a whopper for this one. It's a bit confusing though and it's long so bear with me. First off, the players: me, the ass (my ex boyfriend), and my Love (the man I've been with for over five years now and whom I love dearly).

So, almost six years ago now, I was with the ass. He was kinda of a loser, didn't want to work, couldn't manage money, kinda just...ick. But for whatever reason, I had gotten entangled in a relationship with him. In fact, we were living together. (*gag*). But things weren't good. I didn't love him and it was more out of situational need rather then actual emotion that kept me there.

Enter a new guy at my work. Funny, smart, cute. We talked. We chatted. We IM'd across the company's intranet during the day. It really started off innocent. Someone new to talk to. You see, I was very lonely. The ass had finally gotten a job, but it was a night one. And so I'd catch a ride home, be alone at my house without a car, with no one to talk to, no computer and no cable. A very sad existance. So, meeting someone new was nice.

He wanted to hang out after work. I didn't want to at first because I didn't want to be inappropriate. (Stupid me, loyal even to an ass that I didn't even love.) Finally, I agreed. I couldn't face the idea of sitting at home alone and so depressed that actually doing something sounded fun.

Things slowly changed. We talked on the phone all the time. We went and saw a few movies and we went to the beach. Nothing ever happened (not even so much as a kiss), but I knew that I couldn't keep living such a dead and dreary life as I had with the ass. It was just killing me.

I told the ass I wanted to break up. That we needed to plan to move out of the house. He cried, begged and pretty much went crazy. In my stupid desire to minimize the hardship of it, I agreed that we'd pay one more month's rent so he'd have time to make arrangements for new place to live, etc. My big mistake.

Things went from bad to worse. The ass went bipolar; first trying to shower me with gifts - including a gold band ring as a promise of marriage - then to calling my friends to attempt gaining their support in "saving" me from my Love.

I took to staying some nights at my Love's apartment (having decided that indeed, I did want to be in a relationship with him). I didn't feel bad because it wasn't until after I broke it off with the ass that I took any steps with my Love. I couldn't bear to be around the ass and wanted to avoid hostilities.

Enter the hurricane.

A very large storm was heading directly for the Tampa Bay area. Everything closed down for the storm. Where my Love's apartment was came under mandatory evcauation. We needed to get out. At first, we thought of staying at my grandmother's house because she was away and it was empty. We instead decided to do something different and take advantage of the long weekend the storm gave us. We hopped in the car and started driving. And ended up at Callaway Gardens in GA.

We had the best time. It's now what we consider our official anniversary. But the best of times would lead to something much worse. See, the ass too was busy while I was away. He emptied out the house.

My Love dropped me off Sunday night at the curb of my house. I walked in the door to find it stripped clean. What little was left (mainly my clothes) was piled in heaps on the floor. The furnature was gone; the walls bare. I ran to the phone, paged my Love "911" to call me back. He did and returned and we surveyed the damage.

In the end, the ass had stolen several thousand dollars worth of stuff that was both communal and flat-out mine. He rang up $400 in charges on my calling card while I was in GA. He left me with about a thousand in final bills from power to water to repair to the house, etc. He had called and turned the power off (which would have happened the next day, Monday, leaving a fridge of food to rot) by impersonating the owner of the house (my step-father). To make matters worse, he took off to a job on a cruise ship and wasn't even coming back for six months, thus avoiding having to face any of his actions.

That night I moved in with my Love. And we started our life together. From disaster and heart-ache - the worst experience of my life - came the most joy. From the nightmare of the ass' actions came about over five years of love, support, and happiness. I've never regretted meeting my Love. And I've never regretted the price I paid for us coming together. But that's the story of my worst of times and yet, best of times.
That's It.

These 388 words were written outside of time by § • § filed in FFAF •

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