Read last week's installment here.
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Wednesday, September 20 (continued)
But after talking with Larry the Therapist, and hearing him tell me the things I already knew and the same things my friends have said this whole year... PC crushes you. He smothers you. He has taken the fun, fearless Jessica that we love and turned her into this meek doormat of a girl. I always had to bite my tongue when it came to what I wanted to say. It was not a good way to live and NO WONDER I HAD A HEADACHE! (its gone, by the way.) Anyway, after talking to him I know that I was not the delusional one. I know that when I would try to talk about things that bothered me and he would turn them around on me, it was just his only defense mechanism against seeing what he really is. A pathological liar that has ruined all his chances at happiness. With me, with his ex-wife, even with his kids. They will never respect him. His youngest is scared to death of him, she told me and her mother and her babysitter in TN, and his oldest will soon be old enough to identify the lies he tells her. It's kind of sad for them, really. But they'll be alright, they hardly ever see him anyway. I learned pretty young that my dad was a liar, but it didn't affect me much. They're really great kids, too.
Speaking of father figures, how funny that Dickhead was so much like my mom's husband Joe and PC was so much like my dad? And a lot like her first husband, Ross. I wonder if we're destined to live portions of the same lives as our parents? So that we can learn from the same mistakes?
Well, it's safe to say that I've learned a lot from this massive mistake. I adored him and I would have forgiven him ANYTHING. And I DID! He never followed through on his promises (he never cleaned that Dr. Pepper or checked out the rattle in my car, he never took me on vacation, he wasn't faithful and even though I have a ring for him and a dress and shoes I'm not married).
But when I think about what was good... the lyric game (took two days to figure out "lawn"), the air drummer (LOOK AT ME I'M DRUMMING! 2... 3... 4... SHIT! ), singing to me (Shimmer, in your bed, I always liked that best), making me feel sexy (look at that ass), the laughter (cenna-menna-moo, Stretch- Where's my MIC guys? I haven't seen it since Tuscon!), the showers (staring into the corner pretending to be bored, hands on the wall and washing each other's backs), working on the truck together (I got dirt all over my face), the sex (24 times in three days, Cavalcade Road, the balcony, the air mattress), the music (Coldplay, Coheed, Hawthorne, Yellowcard, New Found Glory, all the songs from that "era"), UFC (I fell asleep in the most comfortable position ever), sitting on the same side of the boooooth (or in the middle of his truck's bench seat so I could be close to him)...
Thinking about those things, I am so happy that I had it while I did. Thank you for reading this, guys, I really needed to get this out.
But it's time to let go now.
Goodbye, my prince charming.
It’s important to note that a good therapist can work wonders. Next week, a different kind of therapy!
Comments are now OPEN! Feel free to comment about your breakups or my breakups or anything else these posts bring up for you!