So, there’s one thing about me that sometimes bugs the crap out of me…I’m pretty good with remembering things (important dates, birthdays, stories, names). In most cases, it is quite helpful and useful. Other times, it causes me to remember unfortunate or unhappy things.
Today, November 23rd… may not seem like an important date to most. But it’s the due date for the Colossal Douche Bag’s baby. Yes, I know the due date for the little bugger that led to the demise of the relationship (it likely would have ended eventually, but…).
I still feel pretty empty inside when it comes to them and him and the whole situation. If anything, the only thing that royally pisses me off (still) is the fact that his friends and family don’t know what a fuck-face he is. I just want him to be exposed for who he really is. He may not have intended for all of this to happen, but they need to know how he was too much of a spineless coward to tell me about it. How he is an ego-centric, self-important prick. How he is a ginormous idiot for being pressured into marriage.
While his life is going to change with the new addition and become unmanageable with the baby and working his ass off to support his new family, I am going to be blissfully moving on with my life.
I am quite happy that I am no longer with him. If all of this shit hadn’t happened, then I might never have started this blog. I never would have met the amazing people whose blogs I follow. I never would have found out how strong I can be to recover from such a break-up. And I never would have met St. Elmo.
It’s been a really great few weeks with him. Our date last Thursday night was actually cancelled, as he was sick and had laryngitis. So, instead of going to dinner, we texted and had a great, fun “conversation.” He was out-of-town Friday through Monday, but we got together Monday night (last night) for drinks. We had a really good time. He brought me a little present from his trip. So unexpected and sweet. Tonight we are going to do our (postponed) dinner. We signed up to do a holiday-themed race in 2.5 weeks. I’m a little nervous, because my body is pathetically out of running shape. I run the speed of a snail and he’s fast. I hate feeling like I am holding anyone back. But I am looking forward to heading down to Brooklyn with him and *running* the race with our jingle bells on our shoes and me with some silly antlers on my head.
November 23rd can go down in my history book as a good day. A day of hope for the future and renewal from the past. I’m in a much better situation today and happier place, than I was July 6th, the day before I learned the truth about CDB.
- Posted in: Breakup ♦ Dating ♦ Family ♦ Infatuation ♦ Life ♦ Love ♦ Lust ♦ New Romance ♦ Relationships ♦ Running ♦ Self ♦ Sex ♦ Stupidity ♦ Therapy
- Tagged: blogging, cheating, d-bags, dating, discovery, friends, friendship, honesty, karma, love, lust, moving on, old boyfriends, pregnancy, relationships, running, self, therapy