Scribbles & Musings

I'm indulging in a very drama-laden bitch attitude--complete with every sickening girly bad stereotype you can think of.

I'm not a jealous person. Fuck, we had threesomes in the start of our relationship, and while that was definitely not the fun and sexy reality that we dreamed of in our fantasies, we made it through even stronger and much more understanding of the differences in harmless innocent flirtation done in fun and passing and those flirtations that are downright disrespectful.

However, one week out of the year, he goes to rockfest with his lifelong best friends. Now, I'm glad he has those friends and know how rare such a longtime and honestly happy and healthy friendship is. I'm glad that he gets the point of having something like a guy's trip once a year. I don't begrudge him any time or company with them, but for some reason rockfest leaves me a nasty mess of spite--the very epitome of the foolish bitch who snaps ridiculously every time her guy looks in a different direction. well, many reasons, all of them tiny though. I really don't know why the week gets to me in the way that it does.

He's leaving today and I was doing much better with everything--then as usual something comes to me via someone else (rather than him, which pisses me off at the very core) and it's time for the bitch to unsheathe her claws.

Some woman he and his friends shared a campsite area with last year tagged the photos she had of him. Most were innocent fun, but a couple almost made me imagine I could see the steam coming from my own ears--the one with him for some inexplicable reason with some bitch (sorry, not in the mood to be fair), he topless and grinning in a drunken idiocy and she in her bra; all the wet-tshirt photos from the contest surrounding the ones of his innocent ones. The last were of course not guilty behavior in the pics he was IN, but being tagged in them means that my daughter and family could follow the tag through to see the pics in an album that is most definitely obviously at his campsite with naked fucking skanks--before he has a chance to untag them (and I'm assuming that after he wakes up in a moment and reads my very scathing assessment of said pics he will want to untag them).

it's almost like this particular event is so steeped in the past, that they all feel the need to remain as immature and horny as they were when they first attended at 16. Now they're all 30 and the behavior is getting as old as they're getting--I hope with all the spite i can muster (which is a lot) that someone snaps a pic this time that captures that most shameful vision: the old person who seemingly doesn't understand that they're not 16. Obviously none of us are old, but there is a time that the same behavior on a 30-year-old is not as endearing or fun as it was when drinking was still done only covertly, just as with the boob obsessions.

At any other time of the year, for any other event, I don't care at all. I don't worry, and I'm not worried now that he'd actually fully cheat on me, but it doesn't take full genital contact to make me feel like I've been disrespected and to feel ashamed. I want to demand respect and at the same time I want to be all nice and easygoing because on the topmost surface, this is something he deserves--a week of a traditional guy bonding thing. But fuck, this feels so pissy to me. I could handle them going to vegas, to anywhere. But this for some reason always feels like it will be easier to cheat (to define "cheating" as anything that I really feel uncomfortable or hurt about--not just fucking), because it's like they all think that this week has a requirement of pretending that none of them have wives, responsibilities, or have to have respect for any of us.

It just makes ME want to turn around and be childish--fuck, I always think I have a full weekend that I'm left here all alone, and why the fuck should I sit at home with the gnawing punch-in-the-gut feeling when I could go hit my old haunts?

don't you just hate the fuck out of it when you know you're being unreasonable and over-emotional, and yet you can't stop and don't give a flying fuck!?