I met Kitty today for dinner, which was a pleasant surprise. I'm always glad to see her whenever possible. :)
When I got home, I had to call my Daddy because he'd asked me yesterday to call him when I got a chance today.
During the course of the conversation, we got on the subject of why my cousin's wife left him. (HAHAHAHAHA!) From what I can gather of the story, it appears The Messiah has a jealous streak just like his daddy. Apparently, he flipped out one time too many over his wife's texting other people, and she got her shit and left.
Good for her.
I don't understand jealousy and jealous people and those who believe that being in a relationship with someone means that you OWN them or that you CONTROL them. I was with someone like that for nearly 2 years when I was young and too stupid to know any better. But, hell, when I finally left him, I knew at 21 what almost everyone in America never learns before they die.
No matter what you do, no matter how you act, no matter what kind of jealous rages you fly into, no matter how hard you try to keep wifey at home under lock and key, no matter how closely you monitor hubby's texts and calls and whatnot, if somebody wants to do something badly enough, there's no goddamn way you can stop them. If my cousin's wife wanted to fuck somebody else (and, for my part, I don't think that she did--I think he's just retardly jealous for no good reason), then all the ranting and raving and hollering and screaming and threatening in the world wouldn't stop her.
I've always had knee-jerk reactions to shit like that. My mama and daddy, while admittedly incredibly dysfunctional in other ways, were never like that with each other. When Mother goes off and disappears for an entire weekend, to go shopping or flea-market browsing or whatever, he doesn't even ask where she's been most of the time when she comes home. If he disappears for a weekend to go to a car race or whatever, she doesn't ask where he's been, either. They don't call each other constantly while the other is gone, ostensibly to "check" on the other or to "see how you are" or whatever other sneaky horseshit that jealous people say when they're spying.
On the opposite end is my crazy, schizophrenic uncle (The Messiah's father) who, thank God, is not related to me by blood, but by marriage. (The Messiah's mother and mine are sisters.) Now, my aunt can't go anywhere without that crazy bastard calling every 15 minutes. "When are you gonna be home? I'm worried."
No, you're not worried, you ignorant motherfucker. You think that she's out fucking some other man while she's actually out buying groceries to make your supper. Mind you, she's never given him a reason to think this because she's scared to death of him. He's just schizo and delusional and an alcoholic to boot.
Daddy reminded me that back when we had the swimming pool in the backyard and "the family" would come over to swim, the rest of us would wear, you know, whatever bathing suits we had, while my aunt had to wear a t-shirt and pair of shorts if she was going to swim. I'd forgotten about it, but he's right. The bastard was so crazy that he wouldn't even "let" my aunt wear a swimsuit in front of her family.
Almost simultaneously, Daddy and I both said, "If it was me he told that to, I'd strip down butt-ass naked and tell him to go to hell."
I am my father's child. But it gets worse, LOL.
Supposedly, said crazy schizo uncle beats my aunt. I can't confirm or deny because I don't live with them. But I will say that if it does happen, The Messiah is a sonofabitch for not cutting his daddy's head off. But that's just me. I mean, if it were my daddy hitting my mama, some heads would be rolling, and I'm not even a man. But I AM a crazy bitch, so maybe this isn't normal behavior. I don't know.
Anyway, I'll say it like I've always said it: a man puts his hands on me, he better pray to his God that he kills me that first time...and then he better immediately flee the country because my daddy will be after him then.
I'm kinda getting off track here. Lemme see if I can veer back.
Anyway, I've always known I take after my father much more than I take after my mother. Or, at the very least, I've acquired the bad traits of both. But it was never more clear than when Daddy said tonight, "If someone's going to accuse me of something I haven't done [in this case, fucking around], then you better believe I'm gonna go do it. If you're going to treat me like I've done something wrong, anyway, I'm going to at least make it true."
Jesus Christ, how many times has that sentiment come out of my mouth? I lived with a man who kept accusing me of cheating on him when I wasn't. I was 20 years old and trying to be monogamous, even though I desperately did not want to be, because I thought it was what you were supposed to do. But after I put up with his accusations for about 6 months, I thought to myself, fuck it. If you're going to treat me like I've already done something wrong when I know in my heart I have done right, then I'll go show you what I can do.
He never found out about the men I fucked behind his back, which I find hilarious. He accused me when I wasn't doing anything and had no idea when I was. Dumbass.
Anyway, Daddy went on to say, "I don't lie about what I do. I don't HAVE to because I don't give a damn what people think about me."
Also a sentiment I hold to. I don't lie to save my own ass. Why? Because I don't have to. Yes, I did it. Fuck you if you don't like it. I don't have to answer to anyone. End of story.
The problem is that I took after my mother in that I will put my own neck in the noose for someone else. Will I lie to save my own ass? Nope. Will I lie to save someone else's? Yep.
Unfortunately, I discovered much too late that anyone who'd let you sacrifice yourself for them like that wasn't worth the sacrifice to start with....
But, yes, ladies and gentlemen, this is why I'm single. I react with rage to jealousy because I don't understand it and think it's petty and childish and pointless, while most of the population is so jealous they can't even see straight. Then, I'm completely honest about the fact that, no, I won't just have sex with you because I can't even settle on one hair color for three months, much less one man or woman for the rest of my life--because, once again, I don't have to lie because I don't give a damn what you think of me--and it gives people heart attacks. They don't know how to handle me.
But you know what? I'm ok with that. I'm me and fuck you if you don't like it.
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