Yeah, About That...

I feel like I should clarify that yesterday's post, was NOT about Man-friend. I feel like some people may have gotten a little confused, seeing as how I didn't say who I was writing about but I don't want to get any nasty emails the next time I post something about how great he is and how much I love him so I'm telling you now.

Nope, that post was about my son's father, the man who cheated on me for two years, made me the other woman in my own relationship, then bought a house with the new girl three minutes down the road from me, and who, the whole time, continued to tell me how much he still loved me and not her and was only with her because I wouldn't be with him, and even though I didn't believe him, it still gave me great satisfaction to hear it. And now they're having a baby (this makes 6 between them) and he doesn't tell me how much he loves me anymore. And all of a sudden, the chains are gone. And I'm not so sure how I feel about that.

So, if I ever write something about how great Baby's daddy is and how much I love him, I give people permission to not only send me nasty emails, but also to find my house and throw pig's blood at it. I'd totally deserve it.

So just to be clear:


Baby's daddy=asshole

Me=idiot who has awesome but still wants asshole to chase her because she still desperately holds on to that one time when asshole told her she was the love of his life and since she's really always wanted to be the love of somebody's life she believed it and refuses to accept that it was a lie like everything else he told her even though she doesn't even really like him and was the one who left him and wouldn't want to be with him even if awesome wasn't around.

So there you go, you know the truth. I'm an immature little baby who is way too concerned about her son's father having another baby with his girlfriend who he lives with and is in a committed(??) relationship with because it means HE DOESN'T LOVE ME ANYMORE.

In my defense, because I deserve one, when you have a child with someone and you have to see them all the time, it's much harder to distance yourself from the hurt and lies and love and get over them than with a regular boyfriend with whom you can just stop picking up the phone and stay away from until you've completely healed. Baby's daddy refused to let me heal and that's where the invisible chains came from.

This is me getting over myself.

**I'm turning off comments for this one because I don't really want to hear how selfish/dumb/immature I am or how it should only be about our son or any other lectures in adulthood that you might give. I don't need to hear it, I already know and I hear from the other people around me enough. So go judge someone else. (This is not addressed to anyone in particular, because you've all been very good to me, just the world at large.)


Cost of Freedom

He owned me. From the moment he laid his eyes on me, he placed his claim. I belonged to him and he would keep me, and I would be his forever.

And he tied me up with his love and his hurt and I fought the bindings but I wasn't strong enough to break free. Never strong enough.

Yet, the more I fought, the more the outrage of being held captive eroded my soul, until there was no more soul and I began to accept my fate.

I. Am. His.

Like a wild horse, he needed to break me. Over and over again, he broke me until there were no more pieces and the mess of me lay on the ground in a crumbled heap.

And even after he was done with me, he wouldn't let go. Years of being held by the man, unable to fully function. Unable to fully love someone else. Unable to get away from his spell, his invisible bindings.

For years

and years

and years.

I was his. Forever his.

But then, what's this? I wake up and my shackles are gone. He let me go in the night, without warning, without explanation.

And slowly, the realization breezes through me and for a moment, I find my peace. I can go. I can pick myself up and I can leave.

I am free! To love and live and be. Free.

But I don't know where to go. If I was his in the name of love, then what does freedom mean?

I don't know how to move from this familiar place. I don't know life without being his prisoner. I try to put the shackles back on. I want to be held. I want to be a captive again.



I always thought that when baby's daddy got another chick pregnant I'd be deeply heartbroken.

Turns out, I'm only mildly heartbroken.