• It’s okay. I wouldn’t believe me either.

    by  • July 3, 2011 • Thoughts • 0 Comments

    You know when your friend gets with a guy who’s notorious for being a heartbreaker, you warn her that it’s gonna end the same way as it has for every other girl?

    And sometimes that friend will insist that the guy has changed; he isn’t really like that – that no one else knows him like she does?

    And you know how that’s a giant pile of bullshit and you know damn well she’s going to come crying to you a couple months down the line because he’s “back to his same old tricks”?

    It’s an age-old tale, right? People don’t change. If you know him better than anyone else, it’s because he’s convinced you so in order for you to fall for him. You don’t know HIM. You know an intricate web of lies and made up sensitivity because he knows that’s what you’ll fall for. Rules and games. That’s all it is. And she will always lose, because he knows exactly how to play it. I mean, look at the last three girls he’s been with – exactly the same story at each break up.

    …But what about when YOU’RE the girl?

    Okay. So the girl in this scenario is me, as you might have guessed.

    I’m not stupid. My last boyfriend was a total operator, and he really will never change. I know an operator when I see one now – at twenty paces or less. Two more girls have been hurt by him since he left me. He knows exactly how to play it, exactly which lines to spin them, and he always gets the girl.

    But there’s someone else. Someone I fell in love with almost 2 years ago, whilst the operator guy was still fucking with my head and messing me around.

    Me and the nice guy couldn’t be together because I still loved the operator; not only could I not give up on this bastard, but it would have been wrong to truly get with the nice guy whilst I still harboured feelings for the other one.

    Now things are all in the clear.
    I don’t love the operator anymore, and I haven’t been with anyone since that summer when I loved them both.

    Nice guy set me three (jokey but not) rules that summer.
    1) Don’t get married.
    2) Don’t have children.
    3) Don’t add any other guy (bar himself and the operator) into the equation until I’d at least tried things out with him.

    I’ve stuck to all three rules, and now we’re at a point where if things feel the same as they did that summer, it would literally be a CRIME if we don’t end up together by the end of the year.

    I won’t lose him again, I swear it. I’d go through anyone, if he was on the cards. I fucked up last time, by loving the operator too much to let go and be with the guy who really loved me.

    The issue that sparked this train of thought this afternoon, is that he has dated two of my friends before now. The first one I was never close with and haven’t seen in 4 years, so that’s not a oroblem. But the second one, I was close to once, and we still see each other every few months.

    I can’t word this properly, because my head isn’t straight.

    This all isn’t so much of a problem; just a fleeting thought that I wished to air.

    I am that girl. The one who wants to be with the guy who’s hurt two of my friends. The one who changed his outlook on love and relationships in general. The one who two summers ago, knew him better than either one of them ever did.
    But that’s exactly it.
    I’m not naive anymore, and it’s not bullshit.
    But there’s no way of convincing anyone of that.

    They’ll all assume he’s spun me some pretty lines, and that he’ll end up doing exactly the same thing to me as he did to them.

    I’m not even saying that he won’t, eventually, down the line.
    But he loved me more than he’d ever loved anyone.
    I hurt him every day, by shutting down when I was depressed, and refusing to leave the operator alone even after he’d hurt me multiple times. And he still loved me. Just to talk to me on msn made his night – we used to schedule. We used to sleep on video call so we could wake up seeing each other’s faces. He slept with his phone in his hand/next to his head, so I could wake him up with a text every day. These things made him feel closer to me, even though miles separated us, and I couldn’t commit at that time.

    It sounds big-headed, I know. But he was literally besotted with me.
    And I loved him too. I loved him. Not enough, but equally, too much to put him through shit when I was still in love with someone else.

    All of this is true. We both know it.
    My idle thought for the day was just that no one else would ever believe it.

    I mean, would you?

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