Saturday, December 6, 2008

Just when things are starting to fall into place...

... you step into a pile of dog shit. And it's the nastiest shit you've ever seen and the stench stays with you for hours. Possibly even days.

The trouble with the Facebook is that when you and your ex have the same friends, you see the same pictures. And I saw a picture. I saw a picture of my ex and one of his colleagues (who I thought was my friend) and they were snuggling on the couch holding hands with their fingers intertwined. Surprise! dog shit.

Now, its not that I want to be with CJ anymore; I've realized just how much I was settling and, quite honestly, I don't want to be with the kind of person that he is right now. But I thought he would have had enough decency to wait a while before getting into another relationship, even if it was just to give himself time to sort out some of the baggage in his life. I thought wrong. And the stink of it all is giving me a headache.

I also thought that this particular friend was a straight woman. That's certainly what she said to me. A straight ally; great friend, great support, nothing to worry about. I just hope that she realizes that she can no longer call herself straight. You can't call yourself straight if you are dating a transgendered person. And you can't call yourself an HONEST person if you aren't honest with your friends. My eyes are starting to water from the stench of it all.

I had my suspicions, but I didn't think it would actually happen. Straight girls that are your friends aren't supposed to get with your transgendered ex less than a month after he kicks you to the curb. This is called dishonesty. This is called unkind. This is called betrayal. This is shit. And it hurts. It hurts really f*cking bad.

Thank GOD I made friends outside of the UIUC staff because I'd be shit outta luck. Since CJ's their colleague I get the short end of the stick no matter what. At least that's what I was told. I guess it doesn't matter that this whole thing wasn't my choice and that I didn't do anything wrong; the mere fact that he's their colleague and I was just the "partner" makes me not as important.

Thank you, Mags, for making sure I was okay when I stepped in this shit. You are the kleenex to my sole. Thank you, Chandra, for hanging out with me tonight. You are the febreeze to my shitty-shoe doormat.