Although Wifey is on her way home, and because of the immigration protocol and timing involved, her decision completely eliminated the possibility that we will ever be together, I think that I took some useful information from the articles.
I am a nice guy. I trust easily, especially when it comes to women. I’m slow to detect obvious lies, and will swallow nearly any line of bullshit from someone I think that I know well enough to trust. Or at least, such is my nature.
In a romantic or potentially romantic relationship, there is little that I won’t do or sacrifice for the happiness of the one I love (or am trying to woo).
I spent money for Wifey and her family that will take me well over a year to recover. I could have bought my dream rifle and five hundred or so rounds for it. Instead, she and The Boy got half of their teeth fixed (and would have gotten the other half fixed also, had she delayed her return by a week), and her eldest son got his final semester of college paid for.
In my previous romantic attempt, I was trying to win the heart of a lady I knew as a teen-ager, but had lost contact with for a decade and a half. She is now a kidney transplant recipient, with all the medical responsibility that comes with that. Also, she is desperate to have children, but has not yet been able to conceive. I offered to empty the savings account to give her a chance at her dream. This was huge for me. Why?
I hate kids. I’ve hated them since I was one. Kids are people, remember? People for whom I (if I were a parent) would be responsible. Although I will fulfill whatever responsibilities that life throws my way, I like to avoid as many as possible. Not having kids avoids huge amounts of responsibility. I am also very selfish. I do not want to compete with a child for my significant other’s time and attention. I want them all to myself.
Yet I was ready to accept the responsibility as well as the added cost of fertility treatments because having a child was her dream.
When I was married to Roomie, I spent tens of thousands of dollars traveling the globe with her because she wanted to travel. I loved her, and I wanted her to be happy, so we traveled. I hated it. OK, not really, I’d have just preferred to be home.
Sure, it was cool to say that I’d been to Hawaii, Canary Islands, St. Thomas, Galveston (pre-Ike), damn near every major beach town in Florida, Virginia Beach, cruised to Mexico, cruised the southern Caribbean, etc., etc., but the bragging rights were probably more fun than the trips themselves. And I’m not that big of a braggart.
Lather, rinse, repeat – with every woman I’ve ever been with. Whatever they wanted, I tried to give. And I’m too damn stupid to learn from my mistakes. I think, if I can just do enough things right, do enough things that she likes to do, give her enough of the things that she wants, she’ll be happy, and be happy with me, and will make me happy in return.
I am a complete and total dumbass!
Sis told me that this behavior was basically trying to buy their love. I didn’t see it that way. In my mind, I knew that since they liked me enough to be with me in the first place, if I could give them as much of what they wanted from this life as possible, the chances that they would stay forever had to go up.
But women don’t like nice guys. Wait a fucking minute! Put the damn gun down and let me explain.
Nice guys are boring, and women don’t like boring. They like exciting. They like unpredictable, at least to a point. And there are masochists among them. Doesn’t make a damn bit if sense to me, but whatever floats your boat. (Yes, I know that there are male masochists also, but that is beside the point.)
I was talking to this nigger at work the other night. Shut the fuck up, the word fits. He’s an admitted player, gang banger, drug dealer, convict who became a father at age fifteen. And his current attitude and demeanor fit the word I chose to describe him. Pull your panties out of your crack, and let me finish telling you what he said.
He and I were talking about the White Trash lady that I blogged about back on the sixteenth of this month. He was giving me shit about taking her home from work the the other day.
Did she service you on the way? What did you get? Nobody rides for free.
No, nothing, and sometimes they do.
Supposedly, she likes ethnic guys who beat on her. At least that description accurately depicts her last four boyfriends. Then he went on to tell me about a white co-worker that she “put in the friend category” who got a threatening visit from one of those boyfriends. She never stays with nice guys.
He had already told me many times how much of a prick he is to his current girl. He’s told her to get the fuck out more than a few times, and he regularly cheats on her, but she won’t leave. I don’t know how much of what he says is accurate, and how much is bravado, but he has new stories every week. Some of them almost have to be true.
Then he went on to tell about some of the women he’s been with. How he degrades them. How he tells them that he doesn’t like White women, yet they serviced him in every demeaning way that he asked.
Then he told me about his sister. He used to fight her battles for her. She’d be with a guy who’d mistreat her, he’d go beat the guy up, and sister would go right back to him. Again, taking some of this with a grain of salt, but there is a measure of truth in every lie.
Then there’s this older negro lady who pretends to be interested in me, despite the fact that her daughter is younger than me. We’ve grown to be good friends, and have had some very candid conversations. One day she told me that she and I could never be together.
I don’t do nice. I’d just use you up.
Not that she’d ever get the chance. I’m not into women of color, particularly negro women. It’s a personal preference, probably based in racism, but regardless of why, it remains a fact.
My point is that women might complain about men who do not treat them right, but they stay with them and leave the nice guys. Ever notice how so many abused women so frequently return to their abusers? Some do so out of fear, perhaps even a majority, but far from all. Why else would they stay unless they liked it on some level?
I can’t be any way but how God made me. When I love, I love with everything that I have, and everything that I am. If there is a lady out there who can tolerate me and my idiosyncrasies, my weird outlook on life, my craving for boredom, and won’t leave because I refuse to treat her like shit, well, I haven’t found her yet.
And I’m old and getting really tired of looking.
In personal relationships (not limited to potentially romantic ones) either I despise you, or I love you to death. There is little in between. Like I’ve said before, I’m gullible, and to a certain degree, WAY too trusting. And it had burnt me badly more times than I can count.
So I build walls. I stay away from people. Because if I stay away from them, I won’t get to liking them, just to find out that they are worthless pricks who aren’t worth the bullet it would take to put them out of my misery.
I think that the walls need to go up a little higher. I’ve already adopted the asshole persona. If you do something stupid, I’ll call you out on it. Range buddies can attest to the ridicule I throw their way when they can’t hit the target. Anybody who has ever been around me for more than a few minutes has found themselves on the business end of my caustic sense of humor.
Take a sip of coffee that is still too hot, and you burnt your tongue?
Fucking dumbass. I bet you won’t do that stupid shit again, will you?
I see where someone at work put a heavy case on top of something light and flimsy, crushing it.
What the hell kind of dipshit would stack a forty pound case of salt on top of a weak-ass box of chips?
You get the idea. I don’t really mean it personally, and I include myself when appropriate. I can take as well as give, as long as it is in fun, but the acid does tend to keep the faint of heart and easily offended at bay.
Maybe I need to step it up a notch.
At this point, I’m going to live for me, and the rest of the world can kiss my big, fat, hairy, white ass if they don’t like something that I say or do. Fuck ’em all.