End Of The Affairs

Relationships.

I will never, ever stop being fascinated with the constant fascination with relationships. Especially other people’s relationships. Living vicariously through other people, wanting to know what the hell is going on in their lives, there’s something so pedestrian about it.

I don’t give a damn about it. I’ll read about other people’s relationships if the article or information lands before my eyes, but I won’t seek it on my own. I won’t dissect it, or analyze it; aren’t you tired of your own relationships to care about other people’s?

I significantly care more about what the people I read about wore, what they had on when they went to Pumpkin Patch, or how they walked out of the club in the wee hours and if the lipstick is still on.

I also like to see where they jog or what they had on while jogging, was it properly picked gym attire, or was it more like in the Hank Moody alley of cut jean shorts, a short sleeve tee over a long sleeve tee, knee length sock....that sorta thing.

Also, I always wonder if they swing Coffee Bean or Starbucks. It’s important. Personally, I’m a Coffee Bean.

My relationship. 8 years and running. A godamn lifetime. Did I ever think I can hold that long without killing myself, or him; no. But I made it. I fucking made it.

All the people you’re going to be with, take my advice on it since, naturally, I’m an expert now - they will go on your nerves, I guarantee you that. Soak it, and put the sock in it. Mine, he pisses me off, often. Why? It all goes into that default socks all over the place - video game combo.

But I’m so happy exactly he is the one I picked to annoy me for this long. If you going to pick the one that’ll annoy you, you might as well pick a good annoyer. Mine is monumentally talented in everything he does. He annoys, he loves, he tolerates, he sees.

The best thing about him; he sees really well! He sees things no one else sees. His eyes are kinda small, but boy he sees well.

People like problems. People don’t like when you don’t give them problems. I have problems with about every single aspect of humanity; you name it, I have problems with it! Everything. The only thing I truly know how to do right is - boys.

And there’s just one I dated at some point in my life that I do not talk to today. I’m friends with everyone I have been with, even my first, 15-year-old boyfriend. Sometimes, I even talk to his mother.

Weird, I know. But that’s just how I do things, and my level of expertise.

It’s important to stay good with the boys you were once in a relationship with, I feel. I keep them all in check. That one? Check! That order one? Check! I never understood why women halt all contact with men they were once in a relationship with, but have tons of girlfriends on deck. Why would that be any different? Unless it’s an ugly, disrespectful breakup, I don’t see why you can’t stay on good terms with someone you shared every minute of your life with.

My infamous relationship came into question because, quote, he spend his birthday in Croatia, and I in Los Angeles, un-quote.

Would you look at that?

A full-on red-blooded scandal! With pics and all! Call the presses!

Out of all the things the human mind can make up, THAT’s what they come up with? Who? All of them, friends that wish you well, and media with their platitudes. I like the approach, though. You have to admire the approach. I always worshiped individuals that presented unimportant crap like a freshly typed Ph.D. thesis from Harvard. They researched this and all.

I strongly believe that the people who write this idiocy are the same people convinced by their parents they are special. Those are the ones that single-handedly made this planet what it is today; pure fuckery.

How can people believe what they read about? Assumptions about someone else’s life, and take it at face value. Especially women, we know this, we go through this. If you get served a story telling you how another woman is bad and she fucked up her relationship because she decided what she needs to do is more important than a man’s bday party, you take that as a fact?

And give me some credit. If I wanted to stir the masses, I’d give you something worthwhile.

I’m not going to do it pussy style, I’ll do it in a real full-on mayhem style. Ok? Ok. Glad we had that talk.

Oh, you thought I would actually explain the state of my relationship or the breakup in this post? The real truth? Sorry. I don’t do that.

I like you to be in limbo. You’re on your own.

After all, I always say gossip is like a buffet; everyone picks what they want to believe.

And I’m ok with whatever you chose to eat.