When people said the phrase "watching your life fall apart I front of your eyes", I always thought they would just be justifying their weak-ass character.
That sentence always made me think it was an lame excuse, a way of people gaining sympathy after fucking up. You sure as fuck are part of this demographic group, pussy.
All my life, I though of myself as one of the smartest persons in the room, always keeping myself two steps ahead. Reading people was a talent of mine, and I took complete advantage of it. Maybe it started as a coping mechanism, after living an unconventional childhood.
My parents were a very hippie couple who were crazy about each other and had me when they were both 16. "Naturally, we dropped out from high-school since we didn't see the point in oppressive non-sense education anyway" used to say my mother when she got questioned about our lifestyle. I sure as shit didn't understand all her fancy words the first time I listened that answer, but the phrase got stuck with me.
They defined themselves as "free-spirit people with adventurous will that refused to become slaves of the capitalism". Josh and Cindy Rodgers kissed and hugged the entire time and didn't like to depend on material things to be happy, and that included money. It also meant sometimes not having a fucking penny for eating. I felt appreciated and loved in one part, but mistreated and ignored in the other. It was fucking confusing as a kid and I didn't understand my feelings.
The irony was that there was always possibility of scoring lots of weed and LSD. Food was unimportant but not the recreational things. We were constantly on the road from commune to commune, not settling anywhere because "the world was way to big for that shit" but that nomad life-style was shitty for a kid. I knew they loved me, they liked to listen to what I had to say and always told me how blessed they were of having me, but it didn't compensate for the neglect I experienced.
Thank God for my Uncle Jack, my mother's brother and my Aunt Maureen, his wife. They couldn't have kids and always wanted to, and one time we were visiting them for Thanksgiving, my aunt saw me having an anxiety attack after I listened to my parents saying we were hitting the road the next day. I was eight, so they convinced my parents to let me live with them and finally I experienced what was like to live in a safe home environment.
My parents were nice people and I loved them. I knew they did the best they could, but the lack of security I experienced with them during my early childhood sure as fuck traumatized me.
They died when I was ten. They were at a music festival, and after a stupid amount of pot, they decided to try some meth and it ended up fucking badly. They ODed together and when my uncle told me the news I cried, but I was also relieved that there left together. That made me feel guilty as shit. I also confirmed their love for each other was even stronger than their fucked-up vision of the world.
I did pretty good after going to live with my aunt and uncle. My goal-driven, hard-worker, problem-solving personality allowed me to get into an Ivy League education thanks to a well-earned scholarship and graduated with honors.
I trained myself the best I could to read anyone I met, nail their weaknesses, block them from spotting mine, and that made me feel protected. It became a way of living that later gave me advantage in the business world. My fear became my blessing.
I was very successful at my job and months after entering the company, my executive career was on track. I had a six figure job, clear goals, and money invested.
I had work friends, like my good buddy Aaron, and I had total control over my life and that was the best fucking feeling. Until I met Annie Winters and fell in love with her.
She was a love-skeptic, strong-willed beauty that had top-notch brains and an amazing personality. She lived her life believing love was as real as The Tooth Fairy and there was no need for said distraction. And if there was one great thing my parents gave me was that love was a real thing. So, I made it my mission to show her that and as soon as I could I married her and that's how Anne Winters became the most challenging, fulfilling, incredible thing that ever happened to me. She was more than a challenge; she was it.
Everything was exactly the way I dreamed it and I busted my ass for achieving it. So how come I was the asshole tearing everything apart? This feeling of self-loathing was consuming me and I felt like an impostor. A fucking joke.
My phone vibrated, interrupting my personal rant. Jenna calling. Damn, I thought scratching the back part of my neck. She was relentless and definitely wasn't picking up the obvious message of fuck off that I was sending after declining every single one of her calls.
It's your fucking fault, asshole. Fuck, and I knew it. I felt even more stupid by the second, I'd that was possible. How the fuck did I allow myself to end up here, feeling like a manipulated loser little bitch? Because that's what you are. A dumb idiot.
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WORK IN PROGRESS: Shattered Love (Unedited)
RomantizmAnne thought she had a "forever love" with Kyle. But when she discovers Kyle having an intimate moment with another woman on the day of their 4th wedding anniversary, her world shatters. This is a story about betrayal and picking up the pieces of a...