My Mother's Son

"I told you man, it's not a dick, alright. It's a mouth-based video game."

Felt like I was watching the apocalypse from the other side of a window in my cozy home. My mother told me I'm a walking soap opera. Oops. I'm much more a mama's boy than a man. Hopefully this blog provides some evidence of that.



Memory is a flawed thing, especially when you're black out drunk. And I'm finding very little inter-subjectivity in all of this. I do not know the truth. All things considered, I know what I believe. I'm harboring moderate negativity for my friend and this lady. I don't think one is an absolute hedonist and I don't think the other is an absolute manipulator. I could sever the roots that lead them back to me—I'd rather not—but I do what I must to maintain a steady heartbeat. I'll try to be brief here. This fair lady and I went on a date. By the end of it we both didn't know how one felt about the other. It seemed as if her and my then roommate were hitting it off better than her and I, but I often think that with that room mate and every female. She stayed the night with me though. Then, a day later there was a party at my house and she sat me down for some real talk about her and I. We agreed that we liked each other but didn't know where we were going. Five minutes later I walked in on my room mate and her without pants, coupled with a look of horror on this girl's face. I was too drunk and busy to care though. It was agreed that my room mate was responsible for that. We proceeded to date and I proceeded to distrust my room mate and her's "platonic" friendship (neither of them know what the fuck platonic means.) They both reassured me nothing was going down, despite the appearance that they were much more a couple than her and I. They're both "touchy" people so on and so forth. Another week or so and she was prepared to commit. Due to feeling smothered and her relationship with my friend I was unsure. This saddened her. Things came to a boil one evening and I was determined to know my decision the next time I saw her. In this time I later learned that they drove away from a party drunk together so my friend could sleep at her place, in her bed no less. And even later, much later I learned she said something to the effect that her and I weren't technically together to him whilst in the same bed. The next time I saw this "fair" lady I was prepared to give her my decision, which was that I wasn't ready to let go just yet. I was ready to drop all the nonsense, my confused heart, and just go with it. So she said that she had turned a 180 on that. She was ready to part ways after two days of space. After explaining myself though, we were in agreement, we were going to give each other a chance. We had a fun few weeks or so; sleep overs, parties, and lots of eating out (food). It was decided that her and my friends were going to synchronize their agendas and road trip together, to Texas. This didn't bother me all too much, though I don't think that mattered to them. There are a few pertinent details that I skip here. Fast forward to the day they were back, she asked if I wanted to hang out since she was in the area, I said sure and figured out plans. I get to her house and she hadn't yet found the time to shower. I pass on the shower. I receive a call from a friend's number that was on the road trip, it was my former room mate. Quickly he asked if I was with her, I was, then he said he hated to tell me like this but they had slept (fucked) together on the road trip and that she's crazy. I wasn't all that surprised and an immense numb washed over me, but I decided to play it cool until I could talk with my friends that were on that road trip. Playing it cool, in this context, means lying and acting like nothing was going on to my then girlfriend—dishonest, I know. Come Sunday, I talked with everyone but my girlfriend about all that had transpired over the road trip. My former room mate and her had already been receiving sidelong glances from various friends that knew her and I were together at the time. It was time for us to break up. She came over to my house after I failed miserably at breaking up with her over the phone. I told her all of what my friends had told me, she was in shock. She couldn't believe it. She denied it. So she says if anything happened she wouldn't have consented to it, but she also says she doesn't remember. There are implications of how it is all him, my friend, the hedonist, he took advantage, he's a creep. Their relationship was shady to begin with. She pleads to me as a victim, and maybe she is. Maybe she's her own victim, maybe she's her mother's daughter. She didn't want her last memory of me to be the display of rudeness the morning after I heard that she'd slept with my friend. But what's done is done. All that I'm certain of is that if anyone got fucked in this exchange it was me. I can't believe everything either of them say. And I'm done speculating on their trespasses. This is only my statement, for hers see: http://xokristinashley.blogspot.com/2010/03/velvet-teen-et-moi.html

For whatever miraculous reason I'm not torn up over this. I'm not a victim. My heart wasn't all there, we were giving each other a chance and it took only one thing to tip the scale. They're both forgiven, I've just withdrawn some trust and affection. My friend and landlord said, "Well if you're not going to be mad at them, then who?" Good point. My answer is self-evident. This lack of animosity is no doubt one of my many subterfuges to my problems. I do not accept alcohol as an excuse.

So much for brevity. This blog's going to be a two parter because there's no fucking way this is all I'm writing about March.