Divorced Dating and Damn Drama (3 page)

Did any one notice that blondes don't make blond jokes. Well, not as many as you would think. People say that's because they are too stupid to remember them, but I don't think that's the case. I think that even though they are perceived as stupid they are actually smart. Take my roommate Sara for example, she acts like a fool but she makes over twice my income. She sets her own hours and although she puts on the act that she is stupid she is actually really smart. Think about it, she doesn't have to go to work all the bloody time. Why am I talking about this? It's just because bullying is bullying. When you make blonde jokes you are putting people down solely based on
their hair color. Think about that. Replace the word blonde with the word
handicapped. Now say your joke. Not so funny anymore is it. What? Some of you still think it's funny? What is wrong with you?

Marvin was 34, lived on his own, had two German shepherds and liked to listen to Celine Dion. He shows potential. This one might actually have a chance. I talk to him. Ask him how he is doing over a series of messages and texts, so on and so forth. He tells me about how
he works at a self storage company. It also turns out he has a kid, Kasey, and lives with
his senile grandma who has only tried to kill him twice. At this point in online dating, this is my idea of perfect, I have low standards remember. I love lying in bed and texting, it's so relaxing. The problem is, once morning comes along he is gone. Nowhere to be found. Did I do something wrong? Maybe my intelligence level wasn't high enough. My lack of dogs perhaps played a role. Things like this I have no answer for. I really want to psycho text him. But Sara, my self-proclaimed instagram whore of a roommate, told me not to. She said let it go. But I can't let it go. Sometimes when I'm upset I eat. Let's just say I have been eating a lot lately.

It gets depressing even going to the store. Everyone is getting married and having babies. So many happy couples. Oh look, It's Tiffany from High school, quick where can I hide. Oh no, she is waving, she sees me, now she is coming over. She was my maid of honor at my wedding. I got married just after I landed a job a Gossip Magazine. Tiff helped push me into marriage. Granted I loved Henry, I just didn't want to spend a good portion working so Henry could pursue his dreams. At that time I had dreams of my own. I had wanted to go to the local community college to learn more about computers. If I had graduated with an AA in computer science I could have worked on computer repair or something. Maybe I could have been a computer programmer and got to stay at home all day just decoding and stuff. However, Tiffany said that once Henry completed law school he would support me in any dream I wanted and we would be secure financially. Yeah, that worked out great. I paid for him to go through law school and he rewarded me by divorcing me and taking everything. Great advice, Tiff. I would have forgiven her if she had just stood beside me at my divorce like she stood beside me at my wedding. But hell no, the bitch went on the stand to testify against me at the divorce hearing. She said I was not only mentally unstable but a selfish lover. It was there on the stand she confessed to having a six year affair with Henry. Six years, starting on our wedding day. She screwed my then soon to be husband minutes before he
said I do. I choke back tears remembering how she
betrayed me. It gets worse, she went to college majoring in business management and is now a manager at Gossip Cosmetic. You might be asking what's the difference? Well one is a magazine you buy on the impulse rack when checking out of the store, as the other is make up, such as blush, foundation, lipstick ect.

Looking at her is so hard. Loosing who you thought was your best friend is right up there with losing your beloved dogs. They were black great Danes, one male and one female. I love them and Henry took them. I think back to that faithful day, my wedding. I remember Tiff making the adjustments to my dress after Blushing Brides mixed up the orders and send me a tent instead of the slick little dress that I had dreamed of. She was so careful to make sure the wedding was beautiful. We did not have much money only a great since of community and friends. We were married in the back lot of a rundown convenience
store.
Henry wanted a big wedding like the other boys in law school but I could not max out my credit cards any more. So he was forced to settle, but it exceeded my wildest expectations
. My
bouquet was handpicked by my elderly neighbor, Gloria. Picked right from her rose bushes in the front yard. They were buds in the morning when she picked them, but by late afternoon when the ceremony took place they were starting to open up. I remember walking down the aisle and seeing Tiffany in her blue prom dress crying her eyes out. And Henry just waiting so patiently waiting, with his dark brown eyes and dirty blonde hair, smiling up at me. I remember after saying 'I do' sharing our first kiss as husband and wife. That was the single greatest moment in my life, and the best day I have ever had.

When Henry took the stand he said it was the worst day of his life, I couldn't bear it. He called our wedding a sham only fit for a whore and her pimp. Complaining how the day was too damn hot and how I was too cheap to spring for an easy up. Let alone give him the respectable wedding he deserved. I broke down right there in court after he said that. I would have been inconsolable, but no one even tried. Instead Henry scoffed how I'm an emotional wreck, unstable even to coexist with others. The judge banged his gravel, ordering me to shut up or he was going to hold me in contempt. I look back and wonder if I should laugh or cry. Henry pissed off his parents so bad that they wouldn't help out with the wedding. Hell, they didn't even show. That's when Henry was labeled the victim. Oh poor Henry your parents didn't even come to the wedding. My parents didn't come either but I did not receive a pity party. They didn't come, not because they disapproved, but because they didn't want to get out of bed for "my ratchet wedding." Their words, not mine. They, too, felt Henry deserved better.

"How's it going?"Tiffany asks, pulling me back into the present. She was struggling to hold her basket loaded with meat products. No doubt for the annual barbeque she held with her sister every year, the one she failed to invite me to now that I'm a shunned divorcé.

"Fine," I answer then ask, "How about yourself? "Through gritted teeth. She replies. This goes on for a little bit, and then she asks the question she really wants to know.

"How's Henry? " She inquires.

"Well, Tiff, we got a divorced so I don't talk to him anymore." I say leaning against a shelf of canned goods. She was the one who was sleeping with him, so I'm sure she knows way more than I do. She always did.

"Are you really divorced or are you just going through a thing?" She asks, shifting her basket to the other hand. This isn't a question, more like a suggestion. She had suggested I let it all go when I called her that night crying about how I found out Henry was cheating on me. She said maybe we are just going through a thing, or better yet I was just going through a thing. Like it was my fault he decided to cheat. Like I somehow caused him to go running full speed into the arms of another. Yes, she was at my divorce. Yes, she know it was a real divorce. However she wants me to get the divorced revoked or something. She thinks I can just walk into the court house and just un-
sign the paper. I don't know if she is just stupid or
naive.

"Yes, we are really divorced, he kicked me out of my house and took my dogs so I'm pretty sure it's over."Tiffany mouths sympathy words then hugs me. She starts talking privately into my ear. She has the balls to tell me I should try working it out. Hello! I'm divorced, he took everything from me, there is no working it out. I have no interested in looking at the man, let alone start a conversation with him. And, no, he has not contacted me. He has moved on, he is with Isabel now. After Tiff said her peace she shuffles off to purchase her items and I go about the store looking for mine. There aren't enough words in the English dictionary to describe how it feels to have one of your husband's booty calls tell you to get back together with him. I think she was just a booty call, because mistresses really believe that the husband will leave their wives. While the booty calls know it's just the sex. Then again what is just sex? Guys use this excuse all the time. It's just sex so it doesn't count. I didn't cheat I just had sex. Bitch please. Just sex is cheating. If I had been the one caught cheating then I would be considered the whore of Babylon. From the Book of Revelations? Well, she was a famous whore. Fine, I'll use another example. The Scarlet Letter? A for adultery? You understand that one? Good, I'm glad you got it. I don't want to beat a dead horse here, but guys can do whatever they want and everyone forgives them.

Sometimes I look at myself in my bedroom mirror and think what's another scar? My heart has been ripped through my chest so many times, what's another one? That's how I do it. That's how I go on. I don't convince myself that there will be a happily ever after. I had my happily ever after, complete with the perfect cheating lying husband. I had my wedding, I lived my dream life, nothing will ever compare to what I had. Yes, I fantasize about guys; falling in love and that sort of stuff. But logically, right before I log in or message someone, I know I will probably get hurt. And instead of playing the game of maybe he is the one, I just think what's another scar. I mean really? What's another one?

I'd like to think I give men what they want. Undying support. Not of the financial kind, been there learned from that, but the emotional kind. Whatever the idiotic idea they have, I support it. They say something like I want to live in the woods and I say go for it. What's stopping you? If you want to do something you should do it, despite the risks. If you want to be a mountain man, go for it. Research it, learn what you will need to survive, budget your money accordingly, and get in contact with someone who
has done it before. I know
what's stopping them. It's not money, it's not support, and it's not anything they have listed. What it really is-they don't want to do it.
They either want you do it for them or it's just an excuse, a clever ploy to get attention.
See, guys are very good at both misdirecting and being catty. Let me guess? You were under the impression women were the only ones capable of that. Think again!

"I'm just so tired of this life. I just want to get away!" Screams Mat, a 29 year-old divorced
bachelor. He
claims not to have any kids, but I have my suspicions. Now I'm not going to generalize about people but if all their photos have their "niece or nephew" in them, then that's probably their kid. A lot of people feel that having a child from a previous relationship is a turnoff. Be it as it may, the biggest turn off I have is when they lie about it.

"Like a vacation." I suggest. I mean everyone wants to get away now and again. Right? I know I do.

"I want to live a different life." Mat says. I know the feeling buddy. I think my life is a cesspool. You might be asking why don't I ask him what he means? Maybe I should show some compassion to this distressed man. Why don't I hold his hand, stroke his back, take out a note book and psycho analyze this guy and find out why exactly he is un happy. Because I'm not his therapist . I'm so sick of people using this sating site as free therapy, but you know what? You got me. I am going to try to be his bastard therapist and help him.

"Ok, why don't you?" I ask. In reality you could move to a different town or just change jobs and it would be different enough. A lot of people who say they want a different life are really just unhappy about one aspect of their lives.

"It's too hard." Mat stammers looking around and rubbing his hands together for warmth. I didn't think it was that cold but I guess it's getting there. Winter is coming.

"What's too hard?" I ask. What? I want to know. I can want to know to things about the other person.

"It!" Mat shouts, and then proceeds to blow on his hands. It really isn't that cold and he was the one who said let's take our food outside. Yes, I paid for his meal. Because when you look up gullible in the dictionary my picture is next to it. Really it is, go check. Why did I pay for it? W
hat amazingly stupid excuse did he use this time? He didn't, he
didn't make an excuse. He just took his food without paying and shouted as he walked outside that he would get it next time. What? Maybe he will. Everyone tells me I'm too mean, then this happens and everyone tells me I'm
too nice. I really think everyone needs to keep their opinions to
themselves.

"What's 'it'?" I ask trying to sound sincere.

"Leaving." Mat answers then recrosses his legs.

"So you want to leave but feel torn because everything you have ever known and loved is here?' I ask, proud that I thought I had figured him out.

"No." He snaps then reaches over and grabs my hand. It's this romantic?

"Then what?" I ask, confused.

"You can help me."Mat says as a smile spreads across his face. He now is grasping both of my hands on top of the table.

"Help you do what?" I asked confused. How can I help him?

"Leave with me!" He shouts excitedly.

"We just met." I say pulling back and freeing my hands. I mean really,
we met exactly seven minutes ago.

"I knew you didn't get it!" He screeches, and then breaks down crying. To leave or to stay. What would staying accomplish? I mean I could try to console him but it's so awkward. I'm usually the one who gets left. Oh... what to do. I'm going to go. I get up and leave. What? He scammed me out of a meal, so really he won this round and I'm not sticking around for round two where he drags me into the woods. Yes, I just left my food. Don't worry I'm sure he will eat it. Guys always love eating what they didn't pay for.

One man told me his dream was to be a director. He was astonishingly good looking. To be honest I felt he could have easily been on the cover of Gossip Magazine. His face was so symmetrical and his bangs looked like they were styled by the gods. After all, he did have a bad boy air to him, a constant 5 o'clock shadow and sexy sunglasses. I know, I have a problem. No, my problem is I'm not too critical, why does everyone think that having low standers is critical? I like this guy, ok. I'm being nice here. I glance back at him. I always seem especially drawn to short black hair. But not too short mind you, just a little grown out. I see that hair and I think he doesn't care that much about his appearance. It's like my attraction to a five o'clock shadow. As much as I enjoyed his appearance I was more impressed by his dream to be a director. Excited for a man to have a real dream I asked him more about his directing.