d*land

Dates and Times are Subject to Change. Please Check Your Local Listings.

I thought of about a bazillion titles for this entry, because it's just too fun to tell all of your secrets to perfect strangers!

Check the sarcasm in that statement.

Let's take a trip down memory lane, shall we? Except this time, we'll just leave the names in, if that's okay with you. Well. It really doesn't fucking matter if it's okay with you, does it? No!

Here's a bit of history you may, or may not, know: I am legally married to a lovely gentleman in the UK. I haven't spoken with my husband in years, nor have I made plans to get a divorce. I've been married, if you can call it that, for three years. This is not something I tell everyone, because it has zero impact on how I live my life. I do what I want, when and where I want, regardless of the fact that every time I date, and eventually have sex with other men, I am commiting adultery. For the purposes of this entry, we'll leave the women I've slept with out of it.

Another awful fact about me, I had a serious chat problem for about 4 months last year, and most of the year before that. Chat being the equivalent of life, because I was stuck here, Montana, and I couldn't really find anyone to relate to. Chat is a great tool to meet people who are equally, if not more, fucked up than yourself.

Since, what will be referred to hence forth as "The Incident", happened, I've stopped chatting, only logging into MSN messenger, or Yahoo messenger to speak with the friends I've already made. I don't go into chat. If I can, I get the person I would be typing at on the phone. It's faster and a bazillion times more fullfilling. I mean, short of having them over for drinks.

Now. For the milk in my plastic.

I'm all about meeting people from online. I have no problems flying people to and from, or even driving to godforsaken places like Kansas. That said, I've met 3 people from a chat room I used to frequent called Books & Literature 1 or 2. Sean, Leslie, and Ken.

For the person reading excessive amounts of my drivel, we'll concentrate on Sean. Because that's all you want to know about, right?

The conversation between us started sometime in April of 2002, though we had spoken briefly prior, this was the conversation that brought about everything else. We spoke of our "not real" marriages, he telling me he really only lived with his wife as a sort of roommate relationship. I understood, having been there myself several times.

Then we kept talking. On the phone while we were at work, sometimes on messenger until very late at night.

And, I get this crazy idea in my head. Hey. How about if we meet? There's no point in keeping this up if we don't know about physical attraction, is there? And he says, Okay.

Let me say that AGAIN. He says, Okay.

I didn't force myself there. I asked. I had never been back East, thought it would be fun, sort of kill two birds with one stone. I buy a ticket, I fly, I get there, he's wonderful.

We didn't sleep together. There was zero penetration. At no point in time did he say, Oh. I've got to get back to my WIFE. At no point in time did he exhibit any signs of not wanting to see me, nor did he ever speak of any other online relationships he could have been having...

Though, later, we would all find out about each other. All FOUR of us.

Anyway. I spent a couple of days there, flew back, started making plans to move. TO MOVE.

He stopped speaking to me. I was crushed, didn't understand, BECAUSE HE NEVER SAID ANYTHING. And it was then that we all started talking, and putting pieces together:

1) He was REALLY married.

2) He had been stringing four of us, that we knew of, along with promises of future meetings, moving, what have you.

3) He was a big fat liar.

Me, being the IDIOT I am, forgave him. I did. I extended my hand in friendship, and that's all it's ever been since August of 2002.

I didn't send any emails. I wanted this to die, just as much as everyone else did.

Do you know that this diary coupled with The Incident has resulted in so many things, I've lost count? I have a very difficult time trusting anyone online any more, the meaning I put into marriage has been trashed even more than it was before, and for a while, I completely lost faith in people.

And there you have it. Everyone knows now. And, I don't give a fuck. I don't. If anyone wants to know any details, please feel free to email me. It's [email protected]

This is 1/4 of the story. And, it was really a very short time when compared to the time other's have thrown into the hole. I'm only a few months. I'm only a passing thought to him now, if that. Am I still hurt? Hell-fucking-no. I've moved on. You've got to, or else you'll just be sitting there seething, reading and rereading for some kind of meaning to anything. You're not going to find the answers here. Bookmark this page, because I've got no reason to lie to you. Why? BECAUSE I DON'T CARE ANYMORE AND IT'S DRIVING ME FUCKING MAD!

He's going to call me a liar. He's going to say some really awful things about me, because that's all he's got. He has NO justification for what he did, other than the need to feel wanted. And I'm sorry. I'm sorry you made such a poor choice, and I'm sorry you're so fucking crazy you can't be bothered to go about this the right way. The right way would have been to JUST FUCKING ASK! Quit fucking name calling, quit wasting time, just fucking quit.

Go buy yourself some Erykah Badu or some Chaka Khan. Girl, go get a hair cut! Get a manicure, buy some clothes, eat some chocolate! You've got to stop, man. You've got to. Wallowing in this isn't good for anyone.

Sure, you're going to be really fucking pissed that I wrote this, but you know what? Good! You should be totally fucking HOT! LIVID! But you know what else? IT'S NOT MY FUCKING FAULT!

I refuse to take responsibility for someone else's transgressions. I'm taking the heat for someone else's lies, and that shit isn't right.

Another thing, PAY ATTENTION! LOOK! It doesn't take a fucking rocket scientist to figure this shit out. Put two and two together, stop being mean, and figure this shit out. I've got faith in you. You've got to have some sense in all that rage to stop for a second.

The really super sad thing to all of this is that the people who hate me the most are the people I usually get along with really well.

A good friend told me recently that true love is being able to look back at really shitty stuff and laughing at it. I think that's the best advice I've ever heard. Mostly, because I've lived though it.

And. I don't have the answers. I really don't. I know sometimes some really cool shit comes out of my head, but I don't know. I never have.

This is my gift to you. And my apology. Take it, and quit looking back.

I'm posting this without spell check. Get over it.

01.23.03 || 12:25 pm

before || next

archive