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My Exes Hate Me, But I Was Perfect

If we went through my extremely tragic dating history, it would take hours. Not because I’ve dated a lot of guys, but because the two guys I did date were fucking awful. So why do they hate me?

This is a blog, not a novel, so I’m just going to need you guys to take my word for it and trust me when I say one of my ex boyfriends was so bad, he used to steal my money to tip girls on “chaturbate” (look it up). 

And wow. Here I go again. Using my ex boyfriends for content. So there’s your answer to the question. 

My ex boyfriends quite literally DESPISE me, for no other reason than me taking the awful things they did to me and exploiting it on the internet for fun. 

Not to kiss my own ass or anything, but I was nothing but a perfect angel to them and they took advantage of that to manipulate me and emotionally scar me for life. So now I’m traumatized. But I’m also funny on the internet so who’s the real winner here? (haha still not me). 

My favorite part about telling hundreds of thousands of people about how shitty my ex’s are, is seeing their mothers’ reactions. I don’t know, personally, I think if I carried a child for nine months, named it something extremely basic, and then raised it for 18 years, I would be pretty upset if he was punching walls because his girlfriend kindly asked him to stop swiping on tinder infront of her. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case here. Was I really expecting anything else from a woman named Karen anyway? I wish I were joking, but that was her name, and she fits the stereotype, clearly. 

According to my ex, him and Karen think I’m a “huge whore” and the way I present myself is “disgusting.” They’re so sweet.  

But nothing is sweeter than my high school ex boyfriend telling me his mom thinks he should get a restraining order because I tweet about him and, apparently, “egged his house.” For the record, I did not egg that man’s house (I wish I did), but I find comfort in knowing that someone hates him enough to do that. 

I wasn’t bothered by the restraining order comment in the slightest. Because while she thought she could attempt to legally keep me away from her grown ass son because of a silly, little, viral tweet, he was still sneaking me in through the side door of their house during winter breaks. What a gentleman. 

Anyway, I guess I’m the bad person for tweeting about my ex punching walls and throwing things at me when he ran out of weed, but he’s not a bad person for doing those things. How dare I poke fun at the guy who did too much coke at a darty and then drove to Wendy’s, where his car ran out of gas in the drive thru line.  I am such a whore for talking about these things (that are hilarious), and the way I present myself is disgusting. Did I get that right?

What do you think?

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Written by Alyssa Schoener

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