Weeks

Good day today, except I slept in.  I’ve done it about three times this year, I think… missing work…
 
I’ve missed my other job too, because of general fatigue resulting from spending evening time with that girl.  I guess that’s over now, though.
 
I saw her today across the glass and gave an abrupt wave in passing — I wouldn’t have, except that we made eye contact.  I saw her earlier but didn’t approach her.
 
I spotted some cash to Mable today since her cheque was late, two ninety-eight in amount (today was the deadline for school payments).  We three left together to her bank (Monde and we; Inonge’s in Idaho), and the girl also left behind us.  I ran ahead to get the car.  While driving, Monde told me the girl had caught up and spoken with them, and was walking with some boy.  I told her I didn’t care any more… and that she had a mental disorder.  We passed them in the car; her latest consort was some goofy student I’ve seen around.  They were going to her apartment.  I actually saw them again on my way to drop off the Africans.
 
So, I guess this makes… five boys she’s invited to her place, including me.  Could be more.
 
Five guys in four weeks here.  It’s crazy.  It’s like she’s got a terminal illness or something, and she’s got to stuff as much promiscuity as she can into her remaining days.
 
She’s not pretty anymore to me, literally.  She seems deformed somehow.  Her defects are becoming noticeable, while I was blind to them before.  She’s short, stumpy.  Dumpy looking.  Her hips are dropping down.  Her face is put together wrong… she somehow gives me the impression of a vulture.
 
Well, I guess she’s a good match for that goofy looking student then.  Their kids will be the shame of their elementary school.
 
Yuck, anyway.  I’m glad to be rid of her, the parasite, and get back to my productive life.  She’s latched onto me and sucked my blood — she’s usurped my church, my town, my school, several of my friends, several people I’ve mentioned to her in admiration, and several people I only knew about.  The money I’ve lost on her behalf I’m glad to have lost, because it showed my love, which was true; but everything else she has kind of butted her way into, like a camel in a tent — with no intention of letting me stay.  Worst of all, she has sucked out my love, leaving me emotionally anemic.
 
Well, heaven knows I would forgive her if she ever repented, ever treated me kindly, and she would be beautiful again in my eyes, and I would willingly hand over more of my life for her consumption.  But instead of repent, she’ll just take one new guy after the other back to her lair…
 
My pity, then, is no longer for her, for the social void she’s preparing for herself… but for those blind victims.
 
…And for myself, that I had to love an angel who would fall.
 
 
…If only she could rise again.  My love doesn’t die.  But for now, and perhaps for ever, I’m free.
 
-Steve
 
Post:  Maybe you’re thinking, "How can you disrespect her like that and still conclude that you love her?"
 
All I can say is, my hurt from her coldness has been no greater and no less than my love for her.  …And my love was immense, because her coldness was once warmth, such as I had never felt.
 
Well, I guess anybody else would’ve dumped the rotting corpse of a relationship by now.  But me, I handcuffed myself to it…
 
Well… if it seems like a mistake, at least I know I did it for love…
 
And after I’m totally free, the next girl I love will know what she’s in for:
 
…Truth.
 
…Loyalty.
 
…Forgiveness.
 
…And everything I have to give her; my very life.
 
Post-post:
 
You know…….. sorry for the multiple endings and all… but…. re-reading this…….. I really need to forgive her, in either case.  Either it’s totally over, and I should clear the slate, or something else, and I should also clear it.
 
My problem is an unruly tongue, or hasty fingers in this setting…
 
Then, from here, my effort will be to say nothing more against her… and while I’m at it, to speak ill of nobody else.  Maybe this is my chance to become a nice person.
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