I Closed The Lid But I Didn't Flush

So last night, I was out at a party. It was a nice party, where I got very well close to inebriated.

I realize now that often, when I look back at moments like last night, that the term "well close to inebriated" actually means "completely inebriated," point blank. But I digress.

And I digress again, by adding the fact that I was wearing my new White Pants (uh, yeah.... in 30 years, if their are archives of old blog posts admitting such things as "I wore White Pants" they will be just as bad those movies we currently watch of the '70's childhood videos of ourselves and parents - oy), for which, unbeknowenst to me, were the talk of the [ladies of the] party ( i.e., my ass looked hot in them, phew).

[Hey. Don't you love love love my excessive use of English grammatical stuff like this:;"[] ( )? I'm really good at it. Or bad. I can't tell anymore (should I have used a semicolon there)?]

OK, Back to The Story. Now that we've got my hot white-ass White Pants out of the way, I'll get to the point. I had a little epiphany last night about the ex-boyfriend. And that epiphany is just like the title: I closed the lid but I didn't flush.

It was me who called it off. And you know what? From the view over here, it seems that I am the only one who still smells the stink of it. I didn't flush. He oozes in somehow to every fucking day of my life. I miss him, I hate him, I empathize for him. Repeat. He flushed me the minute I gave the execution order. But here I am, still holding on to the relationship and cursing what it had and what it lacked everytime I think about it. Every day still. Granted, it's less and less everyday, but it is everyday nonetheless.

I've been telling myself to flush it for months. Months! I know this post is not really Gertie-style; I'm a pretty strong woman, after all. But often times the strongest of women are weak in the most unexpected ways. And to not be able to flush, just flush! this last relationship is a really surprising thing for me to realize I cannot accomplish.

Hrrmph. That F**ker. Sticks like glue. Off! Off!

Tags:

• life
• relationships
• toilettalk