Maybe the stellar, stealth-y works of our Navy SEAL Six team recently is rubbing off on me? I donno.
I do know that I'm engaged in some super elite Psychological Operations. Yep. That's what I'm involved in. Psychological warfare! And kidz, the BBG is gittin' crafty wit it. A fact, I'm not particularly proud of, but it gives me a tee-hee, sooooo say it with me now; SUCK IT!
As a tactical mastermind, I know that by all rights he shouldn't hold any space in my head. He still does, albeit far, far less frequently. I'm trying to frame it as a testament to how much I have the capability of loving, that I can be so heartbroken.
As opposed to many folks who aren't, for whatever reasons, able to love someone, anyone fully. They never fully feel the pain when things don't "work out", but they also never really love or feel love fully either. You've seen those folks. There out there. And I'm thankful that after 100 years of dating that I haven't turned into one of the walled off people. My heart, while still a bit bruised, is still hopeful and open. Perhaps, that's just my silver lining thinking to avoid bein' pissed off that he crosses my mind at all. (Ain't rationalization grand?)
But serious biz, let's face it, a whole lotta girls would have handled things in a more (hummm) booyah kinda way, for loss of a better term. Alas, I'm no car key-er, email hacker or brick throw-er through the window-er. (Yes. I do know people who've done exactly those things. Guess what? You do too. I'm sure of it.)
I am (usually) much more of a, 'the world will bring you your comeuppance', kinda girl. I (usually) don't feel the need to do something to ya myself. I'm (usually) pleased enough to just to cut you outta my life, end of story. While I feel like I'm almost there, I also feel like right now a wee Ha Fuckin' Ha/Psy Ops mission is precisely what is needed for the good of my soul and psyche.
(Wrong? Maybe. You be the judge.)
Ok, let's set the mood.
Yeah, this requires a mood...
So to bring you up to speed, since the breakup I was contacted by one of his ex's (code name: Peaches), who has actually known him since middle school. A few emails were exchanged and the next thing you know we're sitting across a table from each other. She's a lovely person and we had a very nice chat.
While we were chatting we cooked up a lil' mini (fuck you redundancy!) mind fuck. (Yes. I did just use fuck twice in a sentence. You're welcome.)
...And let's just say, somebody is gonna get a surprise when he sees this:
Oh to be a bug on the wall when "somebody" logs on to FB and sees my posting of these two faces together simply containing the caption, "Yep." (In her own independent shock and awe and for extra good measure, Peaches emailed the same picture to him.)
I'd imagine seeing us together is going to be quite a WTF?!? moment for "somebody". Two people who's paths had never crossed, and would never have crossed if "somebody" had conducted themselves in a better, less chicken shit manner, standing there photo gawkin' at ya. Surfuckin'prise!!
I gotta tell ya, I don't think I'd like to see two of my ex's together, gabbing. Of course, as much as I wouldn't like the thought of it, I don't have anything that anyone could say that would be embarrassing to me, or that I would feel really shitty about. (--A side benefit of being a decent person.) I would guess two ex's knowing scads of less than stellar details would be more disconcerting than, if let's say, PotRoast and Mr. Man ended up sitting across a table. I'm gonna guess that seeing this precious moment captured on a digital memory card will cause a jolt to the system. ...And that, for right or wrong, totally and completely in my core makes me laugh. Hard.
(Reminder: I never said I was a good person. I've only ever contended that I'm a person who tries to be good as often as possible. Clearly, today it wasn't possible.)
Before our meeting I had been feeling bad for myself (only from time to time). Now I just feel bad for "somebody". I have no shame to my game. I'm not always right, but I'm strong, I'm kind, I'm true and I'm a girl of my honor, which is leaps and bounds beyond how "somebody" is capable of comporting themselves. And that's sad. That must be miserable to look in the mirror and see each day.
In mynearly uncontrollable side splitting laughter subdued and appropriate level of glee I'm reminded of the ironic words "somebody" is fond of sharing; "Love is giving someone the power to break your heart, but trusting them not to" (...Really? Tell me fucking more. I'd love for you to expound on that...)...
...And the eternal, sage words of one Nelson Muntz;
Update: Apparently the pic has been spied. I have been FB defriended. (sniffle, sniffle, tear, sniffle) ..With friends like that, blah, blah, fuckidy, blah, right?
I now feel weirdly giddy. And strangely free.
Mission Accomplished.
I do know that I'm engaged in some super elite Psychological Operations. Yep. That's what I'm involved in. Psychological warfare! And kidz, the BBG is gittin' crafty wit it. A fact, I'm not particularly proud of, but it gives me a tee-hee, sooooo say it with me now; SUCK IT!
As a tactical mastermind, I know that by all rights he shouldn't hold any space in my head. He still does, albeit far, far less frequently. I'm trying to frame it as a testament to how much I have the capability of loving, that I can be so heartbroken.
As opposed to many folks who aren't, for whatever reasons, able to love someone, anyone fully. They never fully feel the pain when things don't "work out", but they also never really love or feel love fully either. You've seen those folks. There out there. And I'm thankful that after 100 years of dating that I haven't turned into one of the walled off people. My heart, while still a bit bruised, is still hopeful and open. Perhaps, that's just my silver lining thinking to avoid bein' pissed off that he crosses my mind at all. (Ain't rationalization grand?)
But serious biz, let's face it, a whole lotta girls would have handled things in a more (hummm) booyah kinda way, for loss of a better term. Alas, I'm no car key-er, email hacker or brick throw-er through the window-er. (Yes. I do know people who've done exactly those things. Guess what? You do too. I'm sure of it.)
I am (usually) much more of a, 'the world will bring you your comeuppance', kinda girl. I (usually) don't feel the need to do something to ya myself. I'm (usually) pleased enough to just to cut you outta my life, end of story. While I feel like I'm almost there, I also feel like right now a wee Ha Fuckin' Ha/Psy Ops mission is precisely what is needed for the good of my soul and psyche.
(Wrong? Maybe. You be the judge.)
Ok, let's set the mood.
Yeah, this requires a mood...
So to bring you up to speed, since the breakup I was contacted by one of his ex's (code name: Peaches), who has actually known him since middle school. A few emails were exchanged and the next thing you know we're sitting across a table from each other. She's a lovely person and we had a very nice chat.
While we were chatting we cooked up a lil' mini (fuck you redundancy!) mind fuck. (Yes. I did just use fuck twice in a sentence. You're welcome.)
...And let's just say, somebody is gonna get a surprise when he sees this:
(Moi et Peaches - aka: the ex's)
Oh to be a bug on the wall when "somebody" logs on to FB and sees my posting of these two faces together simply containing the caption, "Yep." (In her own independent shock and awe and for extra good measure, Peaches emailed the same picture to him.)
I'd imagine seeing us together is going to be quite a WTF?!? moment for "somebody". Two people who's paths had never crossed, and would never have crossed if "somebody" had conducted themselves in a better, less chicken shit manner, standing there photo gawkin' at ya. Surfuckin'prise!!
I gotta tell ya, I don't think I'd like to see two of my ex's together, gabbing. Of course, as much as I wouldn't like the thought of it, I don't have anything that anyone could say that would be embarrassing to me, or that I would feel really shitty about. (--A side benefit of being a decent person.) I would guess two ex's knowing scads of less than stellar details would be more disconcerting than, if let's say, PotRoast and Mr. Man ended up sitting across a table. I'm gonna guess that seeing this precious moment captured on a digital memory card will cause a jolt to the system. ...And that, for right or wrong, totally and completely in my core makes me laugh. Hard.
(Reminder: I never said I was a good person. I've only ever contended that I'm a person who tries to be good as often as possible. Clearly, today it wasn't possible.)
Before our meeting I had been feeling bad for myself (only from time to time). Now I just feel bad for "somebody". I have no shame to my game. I'm not always right, but I'm strong, I'm kind, I'm true and I'm a girl of my honor, which is leaps and bounds beyond how "somebody" is capable of comporting themselves. And that's sad. That must be miserable to look in the mirror and see each day.
In my
...And the eternal, sage words of one Nelson Muntz;
Update: Apparently the pic has been spied. I have been FB defriended. (sniffle, sniffle, tear, sniffle) ..With friends like that, blah, blah, fuckidy, blah, right?
I now feel weirdly giddy. And strangely free.
Mission Accomplished.
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