And by Nemo, I mean me. You didn’t get that?

 I’ve decided it’s time for some self-discovery and some reevaluation. So I thought I would stroll down memory lane and try and figure out exactly what went wrong in past relationships and why there are none on the new horizon. Not that I could ever really figure it out. I mean there are three sides to every story right. Theirs and mine and mine is always right, oh wait that’s only two! Well, it’s the second one that really counts anywho.

 I’ve had 4 major relationships in my life. That may seem like a lot to some, to some it may seem like nothing.

 My 1^st boyfriend was in junior high. He was a year older and so freaking cute. It was all, I’ll give you my rubber jelly bracelet (that was waaayyy before those jelly bracelets had any sex connotations) and you can wear my jean jacket, and we’ll hold hands and have our parents drive us to the movies so we can pretend to kiss which neither one of us knew how to (I guess I should thank him for the practice, because I’m a damn fine kisser now, or at least so I’ve been told.) Basically a lot of drool. Then the summer would come along, and I would go away with my parents for vacation and send a letter to said boyfriend saying we need to break up. I’d get home and call him and we’d “go out” again. This went on till we graduated, then went to different high schools.

 Then there was the high school boyfriend. We started dating right after I turned 16. Thank god for that because the guy I’d been seeing was about 6 feet, 120 lbs soaking wet with flaming red, long hair. My grandmother just about keeled over when he came to my sweet 16 (which was nothing like my Super Sweet 16, which I think has pretty much scarred me for life.) I digress…this one was a little more serious. We knew how to kiss, well, most of the time. He got his license, we went places, did things, had mutual friends. We also fought….a lot. I was a jealous person and he knew exactly how to push my buttons. This lasted until I was about 21. He cheated on me and I found out through a mutual friend. Tragic. The End.

 Then I picked up and moved with my family up North. It was a great distraction, till I realized that I moved to East Bumfuck New England, lived on a road that wasn’t even recognized by the county and I didn’t know anyone. I’m from NY! WTF was I doing here?!?!  The first year was tough. I certainly didn’t meet anyone through work, I worked at a podiatrists office (ewww, probably one of the grossest jobs I’ve ever had.) I met a new friend and we went out. A lot. There was a different guy every weekend. Then I got a new job, expanded my horizons and my friend base.

And I met D.  He worked for my company but in a different office and was 5 years older than I was. I didn’t want to go out with him at first, but I decided what the heck. Our first date was a group date. We were hanging with a group of people we worked with and I drove to the city with a colleague, who I didn’t much care for, but she needed a ride. Well, she proceeded to get shitfaced, drunk. I have a HUGE (that even doesn’t do it justice) fear of vomit, so I asked D if he wouldn’t mind taking her home. He said fine…then proceeded to sleep with her…and call me the next day from her house to make sure I got home ok. On. Our. First. Date. I should have run. But I didn’t.

 We were together for 4 years and lived together for 3. This relationship, of all of them, I believe, was the ultimate downfall for me. We worked together (but no one in our office knew we were dating, let alone living together) so I would constantly hear pages over the loud speaker “D, this girl is on 101 for you.” “D, it’s (insert any girls name) on 101 for you.” And said whore who he fucked on our first date worked there too. Torture. The dude took a call, from his ex-girlfriend, while we were having sex. I should have run. But I didn’t. My family didn’t like him. My friends didn’t like him. What was I thinking?

 Then we had a pregnancy scare. Where I learned that he didn’t want kids. At least not right now. At least not with me. I pretty much lost it after that. The scare really freaked me out and I found myself in very dark places. I scared myself. But yet, I stayed.

 There was fighting. A lot of fighting. It was not good. Now, I was no angel during all of this, I definitely participated. I don’t want anyone to think that it was completely him, I’m not perfect, nor do I claim to be. But he was mean. He was verbally abusive and made me feel small, very small.

 We decided we had had enough of Beantown and were either planning on moving to CA or FL. My parents were down here, so I pushed for FL and he agreed, but only if we could live in Miami. Fine. It’s 5 hours away, better than a 6 hour plane ride. Decided.

 We went to my parents first, this was around Thanksgiving. I was having surgery right before (having a cyst on my face that looked like I had a mini-me attached to my head counts, right? Seriously, I looked like Abby and Brittany.  And do you know what he did?

He went on a cruise.

Alone. 

Didn’t even ask me if I wanted to go. He needed time, to think, on a boat, in the Carribbean, by himself.

 When he got back he found a great apartment in Miami and I moved down. It was awesome. He found a job. I couldn’t. Oh and nobody speaks English in Miami. Not a plus in my book, I’m not bi-lingual. I moved back to the other coast and never spoke with him again. Except when I went down to pick my stuff up and I wouldn’t classify that as talking to him, it was more like growling.

 Third relationship – This guy worked with D and I. I had a major crush on him. He visited me in Fl. I got my old job back and moved in with him in Beantown. This lasted for all of 6 months. He said he loved me one day and the next he couldn’t see himself spending the rest of his life with me. Whirlwind. No closure, I fucking hate that. I’m totally a closure type gal.

 So, what I’ve discovered is that I can’t expect to be happy with anyone, till I’m happy with me. I have a long way to go. Some of the things I did and said in past relationships still haunt me. I have plenty of skeletons in my closet. But I have to be ok with them before anyone else is, before I can share them with anyone else. I push people away, because I’m still not good with me. I’m better…but not there yet. I’m not the jealous, petty fool I was 10 years ago and I’m proud of that. And I’m working on the rest. I will get there, in my own time and on my own terms.

 I still keep in touch with two of them, one I’d rather not and the other, I’d really like a freaking explanation from.

But, it is what it is and I’m almost ready to let my freak flag fly and let me be me. (how’s that for a ton of clichés in one sentence? I rock!)

Tagged as: bad relationships, cheating, dating, miami