Coming to realization that you’re wrong is one thing, admitting it is a totally different factor. I’m no expert on life and lessons but it has taken me a long time to get to the point in my life where I can look back on things and really come to the conclusion, “I did fuck up.” In most relationships, the partners blame each other for a nasty break up. It’s always, “He was such a dick!” or “Man, she was a bitch.”
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There are always two sides of each story: his and hers. Before I met my husband, I was dating someone who I, admittedly, treated less than what he deserved. Now, I’m not saying he was an angel by any means. Let me explain…
I had met this guy in college, I’ll call him Lucky, and he came into my life at a very convenient time. Now, keeping in mind, this is MY blog, and with that said, I will write exactly what I feel. Should Lucky ever read this, he should remember how brutally honest I can be. I doubt he ever will though since he’s not my biggest fan… plus I’m sure he has referred to me as varies names… none of which were my actual name. When I had met Lucky it wasn’t love at first sight. Both of us were just in each other’s lives at a specific time when we were both trying to get over past loves. He had a list of girls he was trying to move on from while I had one guy. I should have known he wasn’t right for me when he suggested to “get on the corner,” when I was complaining about money trouble. He meant this as a joke, of course, but I would have never, ever dated anyone who would ever make a joke like that to me. I have a sailor’s mouth but I was spoiled by proper speaking men (which is why I love my husband!).
While we did date my confidence did sky rocket because I was finally getting comfortable in my own skin. I didn’t have anyone judging me. Our mutual feelings for each other were less than a loving couple and more like a friendship. That is, until I started to punish him for the last guy’s mistake. I hated his best female friend, his best male friend was a hot mess and don’t get me started on his baby mother that I was forced to spend a weekend with. I only wanted to hang out with him, I wasn’t very supportive about his dad being absent his whole life, I would pick him apart, and just wasn’t pleasant to be around. I always, ALWAYS, compared him to the previous guy. I set unbelievable standards that I felt Lucky would never reach (Lucky proved me wrong. He is actually succeeding in life so for that, I’m happy about.), which was totally unfair.
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Okay, I wasn’t THIS bad. I WASN’T screwing his friends that’s for damn sure!
Despite our “best efforts” of working it out, it seemed as though we had arrived to the conclusion that we were not going anywhere. I think I always knew I didn’t have a future with him. When I tried to visualize my life … just did not show the two of us.
Once we broke up, I realized, I never really loved him in the sense he deserved but, man, did I miss his presence. My brother actually pointed it out that I didn’t miss him because I loved him, I just missed being around him. I missed his jokes, his comfort, just spending time with him. That quickly staled when I found out that my “friend” who was helping me get through the break up was also shacking him with him (This also worked in my benefit because that they ended up dating and breaking up anyway. And FYI, she still bashes him on social media). I should make it clear, Lucky NEVER cheated on me, not that I know of but it was a shady and shitty thing to do: nail my “friend” a few weeks after we broke up. Normally break ups take me a while to get over but this was fairly quickly. We dated for about 2 years and I was over him in about 3 months give or take. Today, I have no animosity towards him.
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The break up could have been cleaner if a certain heifer didn’t moo her way in so shady like.
I had actually seen him for the first time since our break up when I had to go to his work place. We had both worked in the same credit union and I still stayed friends with the manager. I walked in with my dadda and met with the manager. Lucky popped his head in and sarcastically began grilling me with questions about who the hell sold me a car and taught me to drive. I wasn’t even mad; I was actually impressed and humbled that he even came in at all. I even waved goodbye as I left the building. I had needed to go there several times afterwards and each time, he was respectful, professional, and just kind. I didn’t feel awkward at all BECAUSE he made the first move. I really admired how mature he was those times when he could have just ignored me and played the petty part. Once again, he had proven me wrong: I didn’t really know him and I should have given him more credit than I did. I should have known better… had I PROPERLY invested my emotions in the relationship.
Now, he is happily dating his female best friend and, to be quite honest, I really hope it lasts. She was the one he should have been with from the beginning. While we were together, he did share nice stories the two shared. I think I wasn’t fond of her because I knew they made more sense than we did. I never really got to know her but I know enough about her that I believe she will make him happy. They seem to be more compatible than most relationships I’ve seen. He is a great person; we just weren’t a great fit and I’m happy he finally found someone he can be himself with.
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So, there you go. I know I was a shitty girlfriend and he deserved someone who was %100 in it for him, not an idea of someone else. And Lucky, if you ever read this, know that I am sending you my best wishes to your relationship and I mean this from the bottom of my heart 🙂