The Big Ugly Blog is an honest and uncensored collection of anecdotes recounting the madcap shenanigans of a perpetually 39 year old divorcee, as she wades through the mire of the murky online dating pool - ravenously searching (evidently in vain) for the man of her dreams...Keep On Dreaming, Baby!


Wednesday, April 14, 2010

This is Only a Test...

This is a test...A test to see if those closest to me are paying any attention at all...cuz if they are, well then - I dare say, that before this entry reaches its bitter conclusion - the shit juuuustmight hit the fan...

Ok, so here's some little known personal trivia: sequels of any sort...or remakes, that type of thing - have never really moved me at all. If I do happen to like the original, it isn't uncommon for me to become somewhat obsessed with it, to the point where I might watch a particular movie every night for a solid week or two? But as a general rule, I tend to take an "if it ain't broke don't fix it" approach, and try to avoid certain disappointment by rarely ever giving predictably weak follow-ups a chance.

Not surprisingly, the same thing applies to my relationships. There have been times in my life when I've had to part ways with a lover (whether by my own choice or theirs) and it might not have been the thing that I wanted at the time - but I just had to suck it up and get over it. Occasionally - after a little time had passed - the other person involved, decided that they wanted to give it another shot with me, and although my feelings had changed by that point, a few times I did attempt a second go-around (don't ask me why). And each and every time, I found myself consistently rewarded with calculably negligible results. I don't know if it's that I was at that proverbial "different place" by that time or if it was almost a revenge thing like, "Yeah, I'll let ya' have a little taste of whatchu been missin', but then I'm gonna be the one who walks away from the goddamned thing...with my emotions still quite in check, thank you very much" No matter what the reason, fact is, that every second attempt at resuscitating an old romance, has proved futile.

(I'm afraid these posts are becoming far too heavily laden with my belabored attempts at philosophizing, and are conspicuously lacking in grit...Imma switch it up)

I'll cut right to the quick here, I hooked up with my miserable ex-beau, Jimmy. Yep, after all of that shit-talking I've done about him, I finally caved to his recent, repeated texts and invitations to get together...and I fucked him, just like old times. Only better. Cuz you see, this time, I didn't hand myself over to him so completely. I greedily savored our warm, physical reunion...but I handily managed to keep my chilled heart on ice.

I know, how stupid can I be, right? All of that periodic ranting that I've been doing in his honor since the Big Ugly's inception, and now this? Why on earth would I rescind all of those heartfelt, harsh remarks that I've repeatedly spat about him - just for a meaningless scrump? I guess the answer is somewhat multi-layered. For one, I had nothing else going on the night that I gave in, but was still a bit reluctant to give up a childless evening and valuable computer time to take him up on his offer to buy me dinner...which he not so surprisingly tried to back out of by instead inviting me to come hang out with him at his which I texted, "You are meeting me at the restaurant and you will buy me dinner, or game over. You probably don't even have vodka at your house" He did actually buy me dinner (which marks maybe the third time since I've known him that he treated me to a meal) and although I refused to follow him back to his place afterwards, he insisted on coming over to mine...for a nightcap...and of course - sex.

(Willow's gonna kill me, just so you know...)

I have to say, there was that fleeting moment during which, I did consider the possibility that Jimmy could prove to be my elusive happy ending. How cool would that be, if the very cause of the Big Ugly turned out to not only be the catalyst that essentially spurred it on, but also the panacea for it and all of my dating disappointments. Like I say though...the thought was fleeting. There was no way in hell, that I could ever get back together with Jimmy. Sadly, there were no butterflies tickling my tummy, no lightening bolts down my middle. But besides that - my friends and more importantly, my four devoted children wouldn't stand for such a thing. Jimmy would never be welcomed back into my life by any of the patient peeps who had endured my chronic crying jags and recurring melt-downs, brought about by his habitually atrocious mistreatment of me.

I've told you guys before, about how the sex with Jimmy was consistently the best...of my whole life...despite the fact that he was the most selfish lover with whom I've ever been. He rarely went down on me, but was more than willing to let me service all of his needs. Stranger still, he seldom ever used his hands to explore my body. As he did with his gf before me, he would've omitted kissing entirely...but I didn't let him, because kissing is practically my favorite...and Jimmy is a terribly good kisser. (So in that regard - I guess you could say that I was the selfish one) The two of us were never emotionally on the same plane, ever...but our bodies were always completely in love with each other, and because of this inexplicable, intoxicating chemistry, I masochistically reconciled with him time after time.

I kinda look at it like this: matter can be neither created nor destroyed, am I right? Ok. Well, I also believe that the same thing holds true in regards to the physical chemistry that occurs (or does not) between two individuals. Jimmy and I had a shitty fucking relationship but the killer sex was the glue that held us together for so long...On the flip side, my ex-husband and I had a good rapport with one another over our 10 years of marriage, but the sex? Not so good...which was def. a contributing factor in the demise of our marriage...and I quickly discovered that no amount of marital counseling or sex therapy could ever produce something that never existed in the first place.

Anyway, so the other night when Jimmy wound up back in my bed, for the first time in ages, I did not look that gift horse in the mouth - after all, what could be the harm in engaging in a bit of guaranteed physical fun, especially since I was in no way feeling tempted to make things official with him again (as he was hinting around that he might be...*gulp*)

Over the entire 15 agonizing months that we were together...and apart...and back together again, I had practically begged Jimmy to love me, and that asshole had dug in his heels, and flat out refused. And now that he was trying to wriggle his way back into my good graces, clad in this uncharacteristically polite and accommodating persona, and even dropping the "L" word (and this is gonna sound crazy to say, but) all I really wanted was for him to revert back to that asshole that I'd known and loved before...he does not wear chivalry well...

After he'd initiated his recent push for us to get together, I had used - not wanting to get caught up in his nightmare, again - as my excuse for having literally no desire to see him...and that truly was a big part of it. That and - with so many other men to thumb through in my ever-expanding dating rolodex, why on earth would I settle for something that hadn't even worked out the first time? Nevertheless, I caved. And after hanging out with Jimmy twice, I wasn't all that surprised that I really just wasn't feeling it for all. Yes, our bodies still fit together as neatly as ever, tremors and all...but because of my emotional disconnect, none of it was nearly earthshattering enough to warrant making a habit of it.

The third night, Jimmy texted to say that he had made some thingy which he thought he could use to fix my broken bed, and that he could deliver it that night, but that he couldn't stay for long this time because he needed to get some sleep...I neglected to reply. Staying silent was the best way that I could think, to keep us both safe from perpetuating something utterly pointless...I did have Jimmy in mind, as well as myself. Because, although he doesn't really deserve my benevolence, I do believe that in a sense I was trying to spare him from becoming yet another casualty in my nightmare.

...And so after all of this, my theory still solidly stands...that the "sequel" is NEVER as powerful as the original...physical chemistry and all.

1 comment:

  1. A broken bond can be repaired, but it's strength is naught compared to the undamaged original.

    In the end, we do what we want. Something is often better than nothing. A flawed relationship can sometimes be preferable to no relationship.

    In the end actions speak louder than words and people usually don't change. You screwed your old BF a couple of times. No harm.