Communication Error 7.1

Why do guys think they can just end a relationship by not talking to you anymore? I don't need an excuse--good or otherwise--and I don't need closure but I do need a finale: sex for the last time, a final meal, or at least call me a bitch and tell me it's over. I won't make a big stink about it or question your motives or ask you for an exit interview. What's done is done and we can both move on. Cowardice is not an option; be a man! Tell me you hate me and that the only reason you told me you loved is so I'd have sex with you.

But really, you're the bitch for not saying anything at all. You can bet that if I felt that way about you, you'd know about it. I'd scream it in your face so loud your dead relatives would hear it and ask you about it when you meet them in Hell! Your sperm would quake with fear and your children would be born deaf.

So finish what you started, you punk bitch, and say one thing to make me hate you the same way you said one thing to make me love you.

The Ex-Files: Chapter 1

I know I'm not one of the guys. Don't you think I know that? I hear my biological clock ticking in my head and my heart. It's getting louder every day and I just have to try to ignore it. You think I like wasting $40 a month and shoving a pill down my throat every day so that one of you dumb asses doesn't get me pregnant? But what else am I supposed to do when the only guys I get are too busy to spend real time with me? Or, I have to play "the other woman" while they figure out if they really want to leave their girlfriends. Or, they're looking for the easy way out of their relationship by just telling her that they're cheating?

I get the ones who are married or divorced. They're jaded and angry. They're old bachelors with no intentions of settling down or grad students fast approaching professional student-hood. I know that I can't keep pretending that I don't care or that I'm just out to get laid. It does hurt; of course it hurts. If it didn't, I wouldn't need the under eye cream and the moisturizer. I have great genes. I'll look like I'm 21 til I'm 35. The eye firming cream is to hide the puffiness after the sleepless nights and the endless tears. The moisturizer is to get rid of the dry streaks on my cheeks and prevent them from turning into the dried up riverbeds of the Southwest.

But this is my life! Fucking Karma; the big bitch that won't let me be happy because I dumped the nice guy. I could have been married with kids by now but I kicked my one and probably only chance to the curb with the imprint of my engagement ring on his ass. And why? Because he was over-bearing, controlling, overly sensitive and a fat slob?

I don't regret what I did. I've never regret doing what I did and maybe that's why Ms. Karma sees fit to make my life so miserable. Maybe if I gave two shits about leaving him or had the least bit of remorse about how it all went down, then I could be happy; she'd let me be happy. But, I did it the only way he'd understand. I'd tried before and he just wouldn't take hearing it any other way.

I'm not a mean person but I had to say it to him that way for him to get that I was really serious that time. I'm not sorry and I know he'll be better off without me. He'll be happy. I just wish I could be happy too.