Tag Archives: sangria

Ups and Downs

Last night was a freakin’ roller coaster.

First of all, I had a lovely “Hump Day Dinner” with Texas and another girl friend of mine that I rarely get to see.  It was a lot of fun.  There was sangria and calamari; both of which I adore.

We had fun joking around and talking about nothing.

But then it went downhill…

But Texas has been acting weird.  She’s seriously contemplating breaking up with her longtime boyfriend of…4 or 5 years now I think.  I dunno.  Awhile.  Mostly due to not getting the attention she needs, but also a lot of money disagreements (basically he wants to use her money for his shit).

While having this crisis of romance, she starts making this really weird deal about how pretty I am and how all the men around us want me (…what?).  I’m not really sure how to deal with this.  Besides the fact that I have awful self-image issues and can’t even process what she’s suggesting about me; I’ve always thought Texas is a really beautiful woman.
She has this flawless skin I’ll never achieve, shapely legs, gorgeous curly dark hair, and an actual chest region.  There’s a reason she was so easily able to steal my high school boyfriend not once, but twice.

Anyway, I am completely befuddled by her behavior.  She’s always been nice to me about my looks in that “normal girl friend” way (“Oh you look great in that shirt!”) , but I’ve never experienced such dogged references to me.  It feels like she goes out of the way to point out that the waiter is flirting with me and our other friend joins in.  I’m completely wigged out at this point.  The sangria doesn’t help.

I texted Army to try and get some sort of stabilizing opinion and explain that Texas is making me a bit nervous by pointing out these things.  Apparently it comes out wrong because he lashes out at me about trying to “make him jealous” and that if he “said the same thing” to me, I’d be “furious”.  I have no idea what he’s talking about.

The words and tone sound like Katherine.

My vision starts swimming and shifting and my head is spinning and I can’t do that again.  I can’t be a possession again.  I can’t be a slave, an object, a thing.  I can’t belong to a person again.   I can’t handle over-jealously again.  I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t.

Texas notices the shift and comments.  I briefly explain, but not entirely.  She gets it a bit, but has no words.  I understand, she’s dealing with her own frustrations.  The car ride home is quiet.

I think about how he doesn’t even acknowledge me on Facebook.  I know it’s a shallow teenage thing.  I’m not asking for “in a relationship” bullshit.  I don’t much care for that.  But he mentions when he’s hanging out with friends.  Or even his roommates.  But he’s goes out of his way to never ever mention my name on there.  Even when he uploads pictures of my puppies for his friends to see.

And yet he wants to start talking jealously?

Hell no.

If he wants to be in the “deeper level” of a relationship and it means this sort of stuff, I’m out.

Out out out out out out.

I won’t do the crazy jealously game to myself again.  I won’t.  I won’t do it.