Heart Up Ass Syndrome

Yeah, it’s similar to the one involving your ass, but more rare, complicated and difficult to remedy. That said, my problem deals with this lacking lothario bastard that finally left my life last July. Unfortunately, I can’t get the dickless wonder out of my emotions.

I could go on and on about how much I hate him with all of Bob’s powers. How much I couldn’t trust him to tell the right time, be faithful with a donut or work more than 20 minutes a week. I could lament all the shitty, head-exploding miseries he put me through, money of mine that he wasted like toilet paper, and just general reek-piss-on-your-heart-and-then-shove-it-down-my-throat antics, but it wouldn’t do any good. I know what he is and that’s some place under Satan’s left frozen nut in Dante’s hell. I know that I’d be losing more than my sanity to be with him and gaining another psycho set of Manson family members to boot. I know I’d end up doing (like has already happened ) the most unbelievable and uncharacteristic things possible to make him not PMS, fuck the dog, still IRS money from his deadbeat father or road-rage someone with a damn deer rifle. Plus, this bastard ended up being one lousy lay. Oh conceited Eros, ‘selfish’ is thy nickname.

Regardless, why the hell am I sitting here on the eve of my 37th birthday, at last doing better (in that I’m no longer agoraphobic, living alone in my OWN place and holding down a job), and yet bawling my eyes out and wishing for alcohol over someone who Joan Rivers wouldn’t touch with a Gucci bag on a 50 foot red carpet while Brad Pitt licked her crusty nipples?? I hate, hate, hate this attrocity to boyhood and want nothing more than my stupid-ass, silly, romantically delusioned, brain dead, “I wish he was what I thought!” idiotic self to GET THE FUCK OVER WEASEL PUS! It wasn’t real, nor is he. He’s not even a poor cheap imitation of a manikin portrayed to be human.

Let it die. Burn him in effigy. Pray to Cthulhu that you I on, right now, with zero looking back or I’ll turn into worse than those dirty salt pillows. :slight_smile: And let fate blow him. Because that’s the only decent head he’ll ever get now.

Fuck fairy tales. Fuck love. Fuck me. I’m such a fucktard loser.

Shit. I might even consider celibacy, if I didn’t have to do without the sex.

I think I need some more sweets.

((hugs))

I feel ya.

We can be lesbians together if you want. I’d make that sacrafice just for you :).

Does this offer come with the toaster? My Hello Kitty one is looking a little old and I haven’t made toast :smiley: :stuck_out_tongue: in sooooo long.

Oh, and before anyone asks… no, I haven’t had anything whatsoever to do with the cumtwat since the breakup. It’s just my fantasy ridden head who can’t seem to believe reality and face it. Bleach it, something.

I think I’m going to bed and dream of vodka, Disneyland and Three Doors Down. All together at once.

I love Disneyland and Disneyland and Vodka would be interesting. I’m not big on Three Doors Down…since we are going for this lesbian thing, let’s invite Christina Aguilera. She seems crazy. We could make MILLIONS ((Dr. Evil Finger thing)). I bet she’s got a toaster, too. Probably a nice one.

I’m sorry. For what it’s worth, I just broke up with my now-ex over communication issues that weren’t addressed properly. He treated me all right, except for that. It wasn’t just “one issue that could be ignored for the sake of the relationship,” though.

I feel for you, though. :frowning:
hugs

If it makes you feel any better, I’ve discovered that I’m in love with a straight stripper.

hugs Hang in there…
And have some ice cream for me. Make sure to share with Bob. (I think there’s a Devil’s Food Cake chocolate ice cream from Perry’s…)

You have my best wishes and a hug.

Great rant, by the way. I loved your choices of insults and the descriptions of the loser.

Is this the place you were in on the even of your 36th birthday? Regardless, 37 is a wonderful age. You’ll have a great year, no doubt. And remember, there’s nothing better than having a bad relationship behind you to appreciate a good one right after. :smiley:

You know what they say? The best way to get over someone is to get under someone new. :wink:

I just wanted to make you smile.

That said, I’ve spent so much (too much) time crying over one loser or another. Thinking, “I’m a good person, why would a dumb-shit not want me? What’s wrong with me??”. It’s tough, I know oh so well. I have a thing for wearing my heart on me sleeve. The thing is, until you realize that you DO deserve someone worthwhile you will keep ending up with losers who tear your heart out. Sometimes you have to raise the bar and have higher expectations. I know it’s easier said than done, but it has some truth to it. Go out, have a couple drinks with your friends, dance until you drop. It takes a while for a broken heart to mend, it won’t fix overnight. But you have to WANT to move on. Try not to dwell on the good things, focus on the bad things and get angry. Anger has helped me a lot during those crying sessions, also a good CD to sing and pour your heart out.

{{BIG HUGS}}

You’ll be fine. How you’re feeling is completely normal. Do something nice for yourself, get a pedicure. Seriously, I love those things!! :wink:

I never seem to catch you at the beginnings of your discussions.

You’re not a loser.

I hope you have a nice birthday. Mine just passed, just another day in the life. My offer to talk is still open; I have plenty of time to kill.

Time is the only thing that takes pain like that away. Someday soon you’ll look back and realize you haven’t thought about him in months. Every day you’re closer to that happening. Meanwhile, we’re here to read and listen to your (always colorful and entertaining) catharses. Please hang in there, faithfool.

Thank you all. Today seems a little brighter and wiser. Or maybe I’m a bit drunker. :cool: No really, I think this’ll be my March resolution (since I missed New Year’s), to evict any memory or thought of said rotted, maggot infested, thorn filled tampon. I won’t even allow a second (past this thread) to ponder insults or hatred towards the illegitimate human.

Ah, that’s beginning to feel better. And if anyone wants to chime in here, please feel free.

Then, in order…

Diosa : Ja, Xtina would work. Especially in Dirrrrty. (Or however many Rs.)

Flammie : I feel for you too. Perhaps we could form a mutual, virtual hug society. :slight_smile: No matter what though, you hang in there too.

Otto : No man, that makes it worse. If I can’t be fucking happy (now there’s a thought!), than I want everyone else to be. Damn those good looking straight strippers. He should be after a certain fab Doper and more than a toaster.

Otaku : Bob and I, as usual, are thrilled you stopped by. I’m just sure that my little buddy is waiting to open a can of Whoop-Ass on Mr. Powers, minus the charm. As soon as he’s done with his ice cream.

Sean : Thank you. ::: blush ::: I owe any decent vitriol here to the Pit. It has inspired me.

Arwin : Nope, you’re absolutely right. I have many things to be grateful for, if I can only use someone’s bulldozer to get that cancer completely out of my empty head. And I hope you’re right. If I do wander into another relationship, I’d like to take care of myself and see past (and run away from) any shit like I was recently accustomed to. Coming up on forty, it better damn well be good to me. 'Cause I’m believing I’ve paid at least some of my dues.

I appreciate you all and I’ll be remember all the kind words while I devour a whole sheet cake by myself. Hey, it’s my day! I can treat (and treat, and treat) me if I wanna, right?

“while Brad Pitt licks her crusty nipples”

You don’t need sympathy my friend, you have a way with words that transcends . . . something. Kudos. I’ll be unsettled for days with that one.

Just a thought, but if you are no longer agoraphobic without the loser around, that is one hell of a benefit. Ask yourself if the bastard was giving rise to this purposefully or if it was simply a ‘side effect’ on the same order as the ‘anal leakage’ purported to accompany the ingestion of those new chips. Perhaps you are better off?

CJ

Damn everyone is so quick! I swear that all wasn’t there when I previewed. Or maybe one of my other personalities caught it but didn’t report it to the front. :stuck_out_tongue:

Anyhow…

Pink : You know anyone I could get under to get over? Sounds like a great plan! :smiley: And I know I’m better than him, kinda like Frenchie’s speech to Sandy at the pep rally. Although that’s not saying much, but still. As to your other suggestions, I’ve already imbibed a bit, so there’s a check there (Boone’s Farm Strawberry still counts, doesn’t it?) and I’m meeting a new friend for breakfast; check two. Uh, uh, uh to the dancing. I’m not quite ready to add that to my list of things I need to way improve. However, a pedicure might be the ‘icing on the cake.’ Thank you.

My favorite Hermit : Doggone it. Did you ever think of being a martian instead? :wink: Regardless, I tried emailing you not too long ago, but I’ve had tremendous problems with my gmail, so I’m not sure if that’s it or I was just being a long-winded (as always) pest. I appreciate another offer though. I’ll forever take as many as ya got to give.

cuauhtemoc : Your such a sweetie and endlessly appear in these rants of mine with good advice and support. I’m very thankful.

cj : Y’all all got me red faced and, amazingly, sorta proud. For once that Cheshire cat grin will be well-earned. :smiley: :smiley: :smiley: Unfortunately, as much as I’d like to blame that and WWI & II on him, I was agoraphobic long before he sauntered his hairy transparent skin ass into my life again. In one of those reverse-parallel ways, he’s gotten me to this place now. So I should probably thank him. Maybe via his wife? Then to say I’m better off would be an understatement. If I had hooked up with Dahmer even after his death, that would be head and shoulder’s above Satan Spawn BOY.

Hugs in return to all you guys and I’m off to lap up some too-fattening and hopefully sinful French toast. All this talk of small kitchen appliances has made me crave some. :smiley:

That’s the problem, huh? Too much space in there - it’s like squatters, leave the house empty and you’ve got unwanted guests in no time that are hard to get rid of. It’s far better to pick someone you like and have that person occupy the space for free.

You’ve no doubt acquired a few useful new red flags. As long as you don’t overreact on them, they’ll help.

You had any to pay? :wink:

Anyway, HA[COLOR=DeepSkyBlue]PPY [/COLOR] BIR[COLOR=Navy]THDAY[/COLOR]!

Pssst…OKCupid.com (free)

If you still have some hair, or scab of his lying around, we could make up a voodoo doll for you.

Thank you again Arwin. Those bright colors rocked. And to Maastricht… now the thought of seriously trying to date again, in any format, makes shivers run up and down my spine, intestines and the backs of my eyeballs. Wouldn’t a simple hug have been better? Finally, MrFP, I’m sure I could get us something much better to poke pins at and punch holes into. :smiley:

But here, gentle readers, is the latest update: While I was sound asleep dreaming of the perfect hippie attire, the child of Koresh called ( !!! ) and left a message on my voice mail. Long involved story, apparently, on how he got the unlisted number here, but just picked up like we left off with no big fucking explosions or massive internal bleeding. Said he’d misssssssssssssed me and wanted to remind me how much he loved me on this special occasion. To please call and let him know how I’m doing. Then to wrap up, we should “see each other as soon as possible.” Because, you know, he’s dying NOW without me.

Whiskeytangofoxtrot??

Why now? Why today? Why after EIGHT FUCKING MONTHS? Without one single word uttered on his fetid breath or grade-school vocabulary via email. God, I just wanted to have to deal with the ghosts running around in my brain, not the real evil that I dare not speak his Christian (bwahahahaha!) name.

I may need something to kick.

I can only count it as a good thing though that I started this thread so I’ll continue to have a place to vent until I eat/drink/masturbate myself into a stupor. Not necessarily in that order, or together. But maybe.

In conclusion for this particular post…

I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!

Although I hate me even more for ever having had anything to do with you, except acknowledge that you’re somewhat sentient and capable of wasting oxygen.

Happy Birthday, sweetie. And don’t you DARE call him back. Or answer the phone when he calls. Or see him for any reason. Do not do it. Eat the cake instead- at least it’s good and it fills you up, something he probably never did. :wink: