Saying Something

In the middle of watching Say Anything , I realized I was and wasn't over him.

He
was, and never would be, a Lloyd Dobbler. Holding a boom-box in the
rain because his girlfriend broke up with him and he wanted her
back--nope, definitely not the type. He'd move on. Instantly. He'd
have others lined up as soon as Diane handed him the pen and told him
to write. He wouldn't be at a Gas-n-Sip getting advice from the with
the guys on a Saturday night, either, 'cause he'd be dialing some
girl's phone seeking comfort and an ego stroke.

It's 4:30
a.m. and I'm awake. I haven't had my coffee yet but I'm enjoying a
bowl of Crispix (remember the commercial: "It's crispy, times two?")

Actually,
I'm awake because my daughter is sick, and I checked on her. I woke
her, gave her Motrin, and make her drink water because she's feverish.
I can't sleep when I worry, and I worry a lot anymore about everything.

It's
powerful to be awake this early on my own volution--not because someone
decided to call me because they're up and know I'll be accomodating,
but because I wanted to be awake.

I'm over feeling inadequate. When someone doesn't make time for you but has time for others and still
calls you in the early a.m. because he knows you care about him, he's
using you. When he feeds you lines that he can't see you month after
month because he's ever so busy--and then it's been, oh, eight months
and you learn that he indeed found time to hang with apartment complex
friends when he was so busy, he's playing you--and never expected you
to find out.

I normally know when I'm being used. Hell, for
that fact, I even know when I'm being played. What suprised me is that
I allowed it--welcomed it, encouraged it--on some level. Is it low
self-esteem that makes you think that you only deserve crumbs ("Crumbs are better than nothing, right? " Low-self Esteem whispers to a fractured ego.), or is it something else?

He
made his choice. He chose to spend time with the type of person who is
stopped for drinking and driving: immature and selfish. Drink all you
want, but don't risk a bystander's safety because you are foolish
enough to drink and drive. It's a poor choice--and it's not the choice
of a responsible woman; I don't feel drinking and driving can be
justified on any level.

The woman is attractive, and probably
if you made a comparison between us, the majority of men would go for
the sexy divorced mom vs. the frazzled single mom next door. A dyed
blonde who tries too hard trumps a brunette who doesn't try enough.
However, as my daughter astutely pointed out, her boobs sag. "She
should cover those puppies up because they droop." I hugged her hard
and laughed through my tears. I would have increased her allowance
ten-fold for that type of comment if it was in the budget. Instead, I
opted for the more recession-friendly purchase of the Twilight soundtrack.

Therapy to get over someone who preyed on your low self-esteem: co-pay $40.

Hearing your daughter voluntarily diss An Other Woman, priceless.

Rewarding your daughter for her astuteness: $13 buks for Twilight CD at WalMart.

What's
good about this mom next door (besides the fact that her boobs do not
sag, thank you very much) is that she's not immature enough to drink
and drive. She's reliable, dependable...and learning to love herself.

Crumbs
are not acceptable. They're messy and offer just a hint of
something--a something that isn't there anymore. They're residual,
leftovers--and so not worth the time or the effort analyzing where the
cookie part has gone.

Now that's saying something. 

 

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