Snarkastic

What the hell on earth ever.

The backstory: Missy?s boyfriend, who?s not what you'd call A Gentleman to begin with, makes a post on his website about how it's the two-year anniversary of his breakup with the love of his life (not Missy) and about how he's not sure he'll ever find anything like that again. Names changed to protect our eggs:

Missy: http://www.***************
Missy: the internet kicked me in the stomach.
Missy: love me.
Nastinchka: Oh, this can't be good.
Nastinchka: Hang on.
Nastinchka: Oh, for fuck's sake.
Nastinchka: He needs to quit testing you.
Nastinchka: ******* did the same goddamned thing today. This is ridiculous.
Missy: Why is he doing this?
Nastinchka: Don't let this slide.
Missy: I don't understand.
Missy: I sent him a v. civil email.
Nastinchka: And don't be passive-aggressive about it, either.
Nastinchka: He's testing you. He's using a girl trick on you.
Missy: It may have been passive-aggressive, I'm not sure.
Nastinchka: If you're not sure, it was.
Nastinchka: You're you. it was.
Nastinchka: You *have* to talk about this.
Missy: I just said, don't you know that when you say things like " [quote] " it's quite literally a kick in the stomach to me? I know I'm not what she was to you and I can't ever be,
Missy: but do you have to make sure that I and everyone I know knows it?
Nastinchka: I know I'm not what she was to you and I can't ever be, <---- OK, good start, but right there's your mistake.
Nastinchka: Don't sell yourself short. Did you not look in a mirror today?
Missy: Whatever. He doesn't fucking want to hear about my past so I can't even do this back at him. It cuts me like a fucking knife that [her ex] is with [a loathsome enemy of ours] and what have I said or posted? Nothing. That's right.
Missy: He doesn't love me, Holly. He doesn't think I CAN be what she was.
Nastinchka: Yeah, you want to tell me again why this relationship brings you anything positive?
Nastinchka: BILLY IS NOT THE LAST SMART PERSON WHO WILL EVER LOVE YOU.
Nastinchka: HE IS A FUCKING CHILD.
Missy: So am i.
Missy: I mean ... I don't know.
Nastinchka: IF HE WANTS A TWO YEAR OLD MEMORY, HOPE THAT THEY WILL BE VERY HAPPY TOGETHER AND SEND HIM ON HIS WAY.
Missy: Ah. I am reminded of why I love you.
Nastinchka: GOOD.
Nastinchka: And I'm reminded of how hard this was.
Missy: God, when it's bad it's so bad.
Missy: But when it's not
Nastinchka: TOUGH.
Nastinchka: This isn't bad. This is Usual.
Nastinchka: And you deserve so much better.
Missy: I don't ALWAYS feel like the second choice
Nastinchka: You should NEVER be the second choice, and what's really pissing me off is that YOU KNOW THAT.
Missy: yeah.
Nastinchka: Do you really want to be dating a diva?
Nastinchka: Do you want to be dating a drama queen? You?ve got enough on y'own.
Nastinchka: That's a Girl Trick, and it's bullshit, and you need to not be with someone who treats you like that.
Nastinchka: Which you also know.
Missy: Okay, so I have two questions. If you were me, what would you do? And also, if you were me, would you be able to cut this off? You remember ...
Nastinchka: HOW can you reward this? Cut. The. Cord.
Missy: ::anguished sigh::
Nastinchka: Missy: He doesn't love me, Holly. He doesn't think I CAN be what she was. <-----How do we do this? Girls, I mean? How do we convince ourselves that this is acceptable?
Missy: God, I don't know. Boredom. The lack of a better option. The desire to not spend senior year lonely because so many of my friend-friends are gone. Not good reasons, but there are some.
Nastinchka: You're stronger than this.
Nastinchka: Take a step back, and realize what you're saying about yourself. Boredom? That's a cop-out answer.
Nastinchka: Realize that you're really saying you don't want to go through senior year without a boyfriend.
Nastinchka: You have S*****, right? He's crazy about you, right? Right? Take a vacation. Be adored.
Nastinchka: When, by all rights, you should NEED a vacation from BEING adored.
Missy: I know, I know.
Nastinchka: And yes, it took two years with Nick and a cataclysmic breakup to get me where I am now, and there's a big part of me and most of Nick that says we should let you keep making this mistake because it made us smarter.
Nastinchka: But I can't. Stand. Seeing. You. Like. This.
Nastinchka: Listen to yourself. How is this good? How is this even acceptable? Now, look at yourself. If that's really your concern, how long do you think you'll stay single?
Nastinchka: Just because his friends disapprove doesn't mean you should be together.
Nastinchka: And one more thing.
Nastinchka: You?
Nastinchka: have GOT to
Nastinchka: GOT. TO.
Nastinchka: Get OFF this fantasy carousel you're on that's got you thinking Forbidden Love is the be-all end-all Whatever.
Missy: Oh, that.
Nastinchka: Yeah, it's romantic. Until someone gets hurt.
Nastinchka: Sometimes 'not right' is not sexy. Sometimes it's just wrong.
Missy: Okay, I cannot argue with that.
Nastinchka: And just to show you how mad I am, the first two times I wrote that I typed "sometime's".
Nastinchka: There. That's my love for you.
Nastinchka: Go write your paper. We will talk later.
Missy: I do love you. I call you.
Nastinchka: kay. Kisses.
Missy: kisses.

Look. Not to name names. But it's always the smartest women I know that do this kind of thing, and this time's no exception a'tall. Like how she devolves out of capitalization midway through? Me neither. Hey, girls, you're all smart; you tell me: Are we so relieved just to find someone who doesn't resent our intelligence and the fact that we don't need to be fucking rescued that we will contintually subject ourselves to this Utter Nonsense? I spoke with "Missy" on the phone right after we had the above conversation. Not too far into things, she dropped this on me: "Well, I never tell you when he does nice things for me." .....Light-of-my-life, do you not realize how clinical that response is? You could be on an after-school special with a line like that. Saying this guy is conniving or cruel would be giving him too much credit in the way of capacity for abstract thought. He's nothing, NOTHING but Common Trash who doesn't deserve the presence of one of our own, to say nothing of sexual favors.

And worst of all? He doesn't work alone. If we looked empirically at what we put ourselves through for these mewling reprobates, we'd be physically ill (and maybe lesbians). And I'm using the plural pronoun because I've had more than a taste of it this year as well. It's well past for me now, but that's long from meaning it's not a God Damned Pandemic. And it Has To Stop.

Hey, girls? Still listening? With only one example in each of our lives, which are, angels and ministers of grace preserve us, far in the future, THESE ARE NOT THE LAST GUYS WHO WILL EVER LOVE US. Do yourselves a favor. Find someone who makes you want to be smarter (in a courtly-love kinda way, not a sorry-I-burned-dinner-baby kinda way), and be sure he makes you laugh. Find him, or find her, and Be Excellent To Each Other. For all our sakes. It's Christmas.

You go to hell and you die

Posted by Nastinchka at December 3, 2004 12:22 AM