A lot of people have been encouraging me to use my hilariously depressing personal life as fodder for a blog. Because I am a pretty open person, I'm going to try my hand at it. What could it hurt, right? I've already been dumped on my ass, drunk off my ass, a sobbing mess in a ball on the floor, a firestarter, a baseball bat wielder and a recluse- all in the matter of about six days. How much worse could it get? And who am I to deny the public a good laugh (even if it is out of pity)?
The cool part is I don't have to take even half the blame for my last disasterous relationship; the ex says it was 60/40, with him shouldering more of the fault. Does this make me over half innocent? I've never had anyone split the blame like this- usually it's all Amanda's fault, that bitch! I kind of like being only 40% responsible for the loss of the greatest love I've experienced thus far in my life.
(Just between you and me, I think it's more 80/20, with me still being the more innocent, on account of the fact I wanted to work things out because, as I mentioned, this man was the love of my life. But don't tell him, OK? He already thinks I suck enough. In a bad way.)
Since becoming "single" again, I've gotten lots of advice from all sides. "Put out." "Don't put out." "Take time for you." "Find yourself." "Break shit." "Slap his face." The problem with these is, I am still smitten by the jerk. So, while I thank you all for the well-meant advice, I'm probably going to have to come out of this one on my own. Lucky for me, he is doing a mighty fine job of making me despise the person he has become. I mourn the man he was.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have wine to clean up (it spilled in my fridge during my five day drinking binge while perched precariously on the edge of madness), fake blood to scrub off my sink (Halloween) and a dog to bathe.
My life is fabulous.
You life is going to be fabulous again just you wait and see!!
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