Saturday, December 3, 2016

Pants on Fire

“Just gonna stand there and watch me burn, but that’s alright because I like the way it hurts.  Just gonna stand there and hear me cry, but that’s alright because I love the way you lie…”

It is necessary to take a moment to own up to the fact that I have a hand in all of this as well.  Obviously, I have come to accept certain things from people I call friends, boyfriends…. Anyone I care about. I have become so accustomed to being lied to, used, let down, bossed around, subjugated, hurt, spoken to in any manner, physically violated, and harmed.  Perhaps there is a part of me that expects that and does not feel correct unless these things happen? I have often wondered what it is about me that attracts these sorts of people, I am after all the only common denominator. 

I allowed myself to follow the delusions of Gilberto (not his real name…) and go along with the stories he told. Despite my gut feeling that it was all made up and pure ego or fantasy I listened and indulged him.  I attempted to build a relationship around his framework of lies and deceit, only because of Baby Girl and my longing that she have a Daddy.  One drunken night, one tiny miracle, and I try desperately to pull the threads of a relationship together based on that.  All the while I give up a man I liked quite a lot, trusted very much, and was on my way to falling head over heels for… we were not in a relationship and had made no promises to each other but I like to think we were thinking about it.  It helps me feel less useless.  I’d be lying if I said I’d love to have a man like him so why do I sabotage these relationships and tumble head long into ones I know will only end in heart ache?

Gilberto was so full of crap from minute one, it is plain to see now.  I knew from his constant preening and peacocking that he was not straight about everything.  Since we had been friends for so long I did not put much thought into it because I never thought of him as anything more than that, Gilberto was just a drinking buddy, who told fabulously tall tales.  He did not own the house he claimed to, it belongs to his grandparents.  The vehicles in his driveway are not his, but again his grandparents.  He claimed wonderful things about a mysterious beach house in Oak Island, all three stories, right on the beach with jacuzzi tubs set into the three balconies overlooking the ocean.  This house at the beach sounded so grand it might as well have come with staff straight out of Downton Abbey.  In fact, the house at the beach is a small trailer, beach view adjacent.  He claimed it would be part of his inheritance, it was recently bequeathed to his Aunt.

It was plain to me that his son, sweet boy, did not have a bad case of hero worship when it came to his father as Gilberto would have you believe.  Instead his son sees his father for what he is, and is building a very big wall around his heart because of it.  His daughter is much the same, lovely girl, but she knows her father is an abusive jerk that is full of hot air.  Out of Gilberto’s presence the children laugh at the bloviations of their father… how sad for him that he is so blind to the things he is doing, the hurts he is causing. The laughter of the children hides the very real pain they feel at having to endure his fantasies.
  Instead of coaching his son at football, as he claimed, he rarely shows up to even a game much less a practice.  Since he has never held down a job longer than two weeks, much less owned an actual business as he had convinced me (he seriously left for work every day and went God knows where for a few hours and would come home), he cannot provide for his children. Mine included.  I have no idea how he is managing to pay for the new brother, to my Baby Girl, but I suspect it is his grandparents again.  His ex-wife and mother to his first two children does what she can and is doing famously but it is so sad because other things could be done too if only he would man up and act his age.  His daughter would love to take gymnastics, but he is too selfish to get a job to pay for her dream and it just is not something ex-wife can manage at the moment.  So, he sits on the couch day in and day out bossing around his new girl, telling her whatever stories he has concocted for her and drinks and smokes things.

His new girl is a real piece of work, just like him she lies and cheats at life.  She gets hundreds of dollars a month in benefits for her first four children…. None of which live with her or in this state.  Now she has a new baby boy, that neither of them is prepared for or capable of taking care of.  They both have a fondness for pills and drinking and God knows what else… he hid his addictions from me until the end.  My suspicion would be that she leaves him high and dry with the new baby as soon as things get difficult like she has with her other children.  Not before she gets more benefits though, because why not?

What is it about me that attracts guys like this? Why is it if there is one in a 25-mile radius will he find me like a moth to flame? Why do I seem to exist on this sort of drama and lies?  When I totally hate drama, and lying; I do not need the additional headache.  Why do I accept it from those closest to me? I have stopped speaking to people I knew less closely because of their drama and issues with the truth, so why do I accept it from some and in many ways, protect them from it?  Do I really love the way someone lies? Is that even possible?  

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