Sweet Liberty!

Ladies and Gents, the shackles have finally broken.

I ran into The Ex a couple of days ago and felt….well, not much actually.  There was no painful inner monologue, no longing, no wistful glances or what-might-have-beens.  There was no sadness or anger, nor was I overly excited.  There was nothing but cool…
…Ok, there was a giggle that kept threatening to creep up my throat and out of my mouth, but like I said, I was too cool.  Cucumbers and King Kong ain’t got nothin’ on me.
The rose colored glasses disintegrated and now that I see him in full HD IMAX, I wonder what the fuck I was thinking for 6 gotdamn years.  Standing before me was a big pile of steaming garbage, so why, exactly, did I grovel at his feet for so long crying and sweating, begging him to love me?

Uuuh, EW!

He is still the same loser he was the day I picked him up in a diner, minus the $100 a day cocaine habit.  He doesn’t seem to have the motivation to grow up and seems content to sponge off the government, his parents, and Vulture Girlfriend for as long as he can get away with it.  Oh, but he’s an “artist” and needs his time to work so he can give away his crappy paintings.  Apparently not even the son he’s so freakishly in love with is enough to light a fire under his lazy culo.  I almost feel sorry for VG.  Almost.
Aside from his glowing personality, boy did he turn into a hunk.  That extra 30 lbs of beer gut just makes his chins glow, and ooh, and his barrel of a belly just looks dead sexy encased in his dirty wife beater. But the sexiest thing?  The dirty, puffy, 'game show host gone bad' hair he’s now so proud of. Looks like he’s wearing a dead animal.  VG sure has herself a catch.
Ok, ok, enough of the snarky.  I really have no ill will toward him, not anymore.  It’s pretty much all worked its way out of me, especially after that last EXTREMELY cathartic post.  I have exerciiiiised the demons!  Does he have redeeming qualities?  Of course he does.  Where they are I’m not sure, probably hiding in his dead animal hair or stuck under his belt buckle, gasping for dear life, I’on’know…(OK!! Sorry, I had one more!)  Haha!!
Seeing him made me feel good…amazing in fact.  I see how far I’ve come and how I’ve literally and figuratively left him to eat my dust.  I’m happier and more content now than I’ve ever been, and I look back on my time with him and wonder how I could have let myself get into such a dark place.  Being with him sucked the life from me, and I was always miserable on some level, even on “good days”; those were the worst because I always stressed out over how long they would last.  We were so volatile together that I constantly walked on eggshells, just hoping to get thru each hour without a fight.  How can someone live like that and not become clinically insane?  I did it and I still don’t know.  What I do know is this, right here, is where I’m supposed to be, and
 I.

 Fucking.

 Rock.

CAN I GET AN AMEN????

OH!  Before I forget, a quick lighter note:
Flaco and I are back on track, and it’s like nothing ever happened.  He’s been sweet, and even surprised me this past weekend by coming out with my friends and me. I told him where I would be, and he just showed up, saying he wanted to meet my friends (and see me drunk, but only cuz I told him it was funny to witness...anyway). He melted right in like he always belonged there, and COMPLETELY won over my BFF, and she’s a tough egg to crack.  Evidently, we are ‘a thing’, and he told BFF that he digs me and that we’re ‘taking it slow’.  (Cue the cheesy grin!) Needless to say, I’m in a pretty good place these days.  It feels pretty damn awesome to be free.