“But Things Are Different”
Warning: Shit’s about to get real.
“But it’s different” – the three most detrimental words you can say in a relationship. You seriously might as well just cut your losses because you’re doomed. The second you say “it’s different” you begin to believe that your extenuating relationship circumstances somehow serve as an exemption from the rules of romance. You make excuses for your
man boy because he is your best friend, or you made out with his friend, or you work together, or you’re in the same major, or he’s never had a girlfriend before, or he’s not ready for a commitment, or he’s about to study abroad, or he’s way older, or he doesn’t have a lot of money right now, or he just got out of a relationship, or his dog just died, or whatever the fuck else…so it’s “different” with him. His behavior is “appropriate” because you are in a situation SO rare and unique that no one else has ever dealt with it before. I know, I know, “but you don’t knowwww himmmmm.” No, honey, you don’t. NEWSFLASH: it’s not different and you are crazier than you thought if you truly believe it is.
I used to be an avid adversary of love. Truthfully, I’d never even been hurt that badly, I’d just gotten close enough to the stovetop to realize it was hot and that if I touched it I’d get burned…maybe even scar if I held on too long. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve encountered my fair share of assholes; the lying asshole, the cocky asshole, the player asshole, the has-a-girlfriend asshole, the seemingly-nice-but-really-an-asshole asshole, the desperately-seeking-approval-from-Mommy asshole (ok, so that one’s not really an asshole, but difficult to be involved with nonetheless) – my point is, I’ve seen it all whether it was through my own experience or a friend’s. Fortunately, I was so inexplicably jaded that I never fully put my heart into any of them. I was always very convinced that unless a guy went out of his way and over the top to PROVE to you, without a shadow of a doubt, that he gave a shit, it meant he didn’t…and even then, it was a toss-up.
Then I got careless, and I’m embarrassed to even say this but I contracted…feelings. I don’t know how it happened because I always use protection but I caught them against all of my instincts and better judgment. And just like syphilis and chlamydia, and other diseases you get from being too close to a man, when my feelings went untreated they started to take over and do some really bad things to me. My crazy came out full-blown with all the counterparts; jealousy, emotionality, saying ridiculous/annoying cutesy shit, being tied to my phone (seriously…every time my phone buzzed I was getting bad AIM flashbacks of jolting to a state of alertness every time the door open sounded). My feelings got so bad, in fact, that I almost let it progress to full-blown monogamy (with someone, mind you, who repeatedly told me he wasn’t trying to be monogamous. Fucking feelings, amirite?). I allowed my judgment to become clouded and I got distracted from my don’t-take-no-crap-from-no-man attitude because it really was different. Maybe I’d been too harsh on those idiotic bimbos I’d previously scorned for believing things their scum-of-the-earth boyfriend situations were telling them. Maybe there was a whole side of things I really didn’t know. Maybe it really was different.
WRONG. Nope. No. Not even a little bit. Incorrect. Moron. “Different” doesn’t exist. Guys who are refusing to treat you in a way that you want to be treated….what exactly is “different” about that? Other than, of course, the excuse you’re making for him. The longer you believe your situation is different, the longer you sit in a gray area until you finally realize you don’t look good in gray. The worst part is…you know better. You’re like a child of ten or eleven who knows in his/her heart that Santa isn’t real, but you go on believing anyway. I hate to break it to you, but the only time a situation is actually different is when he’s not putting you through all of the stuff that makes you say he is to begin with.
Sorry I’m not sorry. But, I’m sorry.
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