Crime of Passion

Is it possible that I’ve become one of them? One of the single women who’s lives revolve around men. All your dinner dates with your girlfriends involve talking about men, complaining about men, picking men up, looking for men, getting drunk in bars and going home with men. How did dick get so fucking important?! Is it possible that we are all just dating the same kind of man over and over again with out realizing it? Why is it the woman that always have to change her ways? He likes brunettes? One $8 bottle and we’ve got it! He likes your hair curly? Better stock up on hair gel and curl cream! He likes your ass in dark jeans? Better go grab a few pairs of dark slinky Silvers. He says your legs look sexy when you wear those black stilettos? Bring on the blisters! Really? Seriously? How sexy are blisters? I swear to god. How did the female perspective become 100% geared around the male perspective? I watch Sex and the City. I read Marie Claire. I buy heinously expensive sexy lingerie at Victoria Secret. I shave my legs. I curl my hair. I wear stilettos more than I go to church. I do my makeup. I wear expensive perfume. You know what? If I had my way on my down time I would be at home writing, or watching a movie, in my oldest sweats with my hair twisted on top of my head, with a cup of coffee, smelling like deodorant, in my slippers!!! Fuckin’ A! I had to change my cell number last week because an ex-boyfriend that I was still madly in love with, left me a threatening voice mail “If you don’t fucking pick up this phone I’m going to find you and slit your throat!” After 40 phone calls in an hour I shut my damn phone off. Ummm? Not ok. When I called my best friend Nick, he says “ I hope you know if he ever lays a hand on you he will be laying in a pool of his own blood and they will be hunting me down and carting me off to jail.” Comforting to know that my untimely death would be avenged. However, I highly doubt it will be necessary. If he can’t put his sorry ass in a car to come to my holiday dinner party, or to just come see me because he, I don’t know, misses me? Then I highly doubt he will be jumping in his Civic SI to be slitting my throat in my sleep. How did I love this man? I wish I knew. It may have been easier to let go. He used to question why I loved him. If I loved him. I used to get so frustrated with myself and him trying to explain it. I always used to come up with bullshit reasons like, “ I love your smile.” “I love the way you hold me.” Bla fucking Bla. I honestly think the real reason I loved him, was that he loved me. Loved me enough to threaten to slit my throat? Ultimate crime of passion I suppose. What irritates me the most about the whole thing is that it took him threatening my life to finally be done with him. Nick is so proud of me for changing my number. He said he never thought I would do it, that I would never be able to let go of Casey. But really? Is this how I wanted to move on? Hardly.