Companionship? love? or a reason to commit murder?

Who the hell in sam fuck all decided that men were necessary for companionship?

i am willing to bet you that a man did.
I find myself lately on a daily basis trying to figure out why i continue to find difficult men in my quest for I-don’t-wanna-be-single-no-more-hood.
i fully recognize that i myself, am a difficult person.
i hide no shame in my ability to be a pain in the ass WHILE expressing my opinions.
i understand that i am not perfect and it is not plausible for me to expect perfection of others.

i know. i know. i know.

i wasn’t born yesterday.
so why do all the men i date act like i was?

i’m either finding someone who can’t stay away from me lest i crumble into a pillar of salt. or someone who turns out to be gay. better still, who treats me like dirt because they think i should pay for all the bitches who did them wrong. wait, don’t forget the dude from the bay with the crazy fetish.
i am not here for emotional target practice.
i’m holding the UZI. perhaps that’s why the pickings are so slim on my side of the LZ

What i don’t understand is why i like my DOG more than men most days. No matter how hard i try, i seem to find my equal in bullheadedness with the men i date. i want to know what the hell i did to cause the backlash that i experience every day that i am in a relationship with a member of the opposite sex. did i sacrifice my youngest on the alter in 75 B.C. with my wife wailing in the background? did i punish all girls in my village with blond hair by removing their ears? was i the dude lucky enough to be chosen to select the virgin for tossing into the volcano?

what in the hell did i do? i was looking at some books in my shed today and i found the book “loving a difficult man” and almost fell backwards and down the stairs. i obviously stayed in a relationship far too long if i had bought that book. good for me because of the title even better for the author. what if the author had been honest and published it with the right title “how to put up with a difficult man” or better yet, “how to bury a difficult man…and get away with it scott free to be able to live your life the way you want it with the perfect mate”. what would the author stand to lose?
riiiiiiiiiiiiight!
not much. “why” you ask?
because women are desperate and will buy anything that will tell them that a relationship will work out if they just put their nose to the grindstone. so what if she spends the rest of her life looking like “he who shall not be named” at least she stuck around long enough to prove all of the feminists, lesbians and bitter ex-wives wrong.

shame on me for thinking that i could find a good man.

i am surely coming to the conclusion that i may never find the right one.

as i type this, i have one in my bed right now snoozing away because he was more tired than he was willing to work on something that has been bothering me for the past week.
do i know what that is? no. I AM A WOMAN FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!

we are supposed to be so in love.
then i got to thinking about how it seems that he is the one in love with me more than i with him.
i expect to be able to be myself but the self that he is sometimes is more than i can stand. why? be cause i am the picky one? because i am the one who can’t seem to listen to the voice of reason… *ahem* manly *ahem* reason?

yeah.
probably.

women are not supposed to be the most rational beasts on the planet but sometimes men need to turn off their need to fix shit and just shove a sock in their mouths and LISTEN! i truly feel that if international conflicts can be solved this way, so can relationships (no really, i heard it did work once, but i think it was either Jimmy Carter talking or Bill Clinton).

this tends to not be the situation… not even close. someone always has to love one more than they other. there has to be imbalance. why have relationships if you can’t have conflict? why have relationships if you don’t have something to work on? why have relationships if you can’t have a reason to sit out in the living room and blog instead of heading to bed at 12:44am on a Sunday morning even though you were up at 6:30am being rushed out of bed to take the dogs to the dog park because you would be invited to a complaint-fest if you said you wanted to go at 8am because someone likes to over plan shit?

is that fair?
*stomps feet*
who the hell wrote the book on love?
*shakes fist at the sky*

oh yeah. see line 3…

to be continued…

goddess