girlfiend

I wish that I could be more patient. Not outwardly. Outwardly, I’m pretty damn patient. I rarely lose my temper at work- last year, I only yelled once. That’s right. I taught 7th grade and only yelled once. I was even patient with the boy when he dumped me. Even when it got to the point where we were seeing each other 4 or 5 days a week and he STILL refused to admit we were a couple I was patient. It made me crazy too. In fact, I’m so worked up just thinking about it right now, that I have to write about it more.

He broke up with me in November. I saw him once that week. Then once the week after. After that, it was more like twice a week. So in my head we were dating. We got together, talked, had dinner, had sex and went to our respective residences. Sounds like dating, right? By Christmastime we were seeing each other more often- 3 or 4 times a week. We started to have sleepovers around this time as well.

I got a weekly calendar for a gift exchange at work. The last week of December I started drawing a little heart on the days that I saw him. We saw each other no less than 4 times a week for all of January and February. Most weeks we saw each other 5 or 6 times. The whole time this was happening, he refused to let me interact with his friends or family. He refused to admit we were a couple. It was absolutely infuriating, and yet, I was fucking patient. I felt like an ass. I felt like he was walking all over me, and he probably was, but still I put up with it and waited.

It felt like forever that I had to wait for him to make up his fucking mind. So many times I was ready to say screw it and move on but instead I waited. I was very patient. Outwardly. Inwardly I was fuming. Patience is a virtue. What the hell does that mean. I was patient and patient and patient and I feel like I was left with nothing. At least he fucking admits that I’m his girlfriend now. Wow. I guess I’m still pretty angry.

I had a dream last night that he proposed to me. He gave me a ring with the smallest diamond I’ve ever seen in my life. It was like one of those rings you get in a vending machine. In my dream I was absolutely devastated. It really symbolized how he valued our relationship. But in the dream I tried to pretend that it didn’t bother me. I tried to act like this 25 cent ring didn’t make me feel worthless. I walked around wearing it trying to smile and act excited because I was engaged, but I just felt sad. I bumped into something and the ring cracked. I looked down at it and the “diamond” had just split, jagged, across the middle. It was just glass. He had bought me a glass ring. I showed him and he seemed genuinely upset. I asked him if he bought a diamond that came with a certificate. He pulled it out of his pocket and it was hand written in an old fashioned slanty script- like the Declaration of Independence. I was so, so sad.

Patience.

I need more patience.