It has officially been 72 hours without a cigarette or any nicotine product to speak of and I believe I have reached a crescendo of withdrawals.
It all began with, for whatever reason (sometimes I’m an enigma even unto myself), searching for my husband’s boyfriend on Instagram. And I happen to find it and see my husband is following him. Of course. I can’t say anything because I follow my boyfriend. That’s to be expected. Finding his account though opened up this pandora’s box of rage, which more than likely is fueled by my desire to have a cigarette. But let’s travel down this track together and see if that’s really the case.
When the whole situation came out that he was seeing this guy, the husband told me the thing he liked about Derek is that he didn’t do social media. It wasn’t his thing. That to me was a jab at me because not only do I blog, I tweet, I Instagram, and I have a facebook. The husband hates this because, in the past, he thought these were ways in which I could meet other gentlemen. I can see where he got that conclusion but it was not true. Telling me this dude didn’t do that was one thing, like, good for him. But then when I discovered he uses Instagram all I could think is, “this bitch does social media.” He can’t tell me he doesn’t when, in fact, he does. So telling me that brings into question what was he trying to get at by telling me that?
I would also like it noted for the court that the only times I have EVER been propositioned for sex on social media has been through Instagram and that has been in the past couple weeks, because this one dude who annoyed the fuck out of me on grindr found my account and has proceeded to message, and then this other dude I knew from way back when hit me up again to see if I was still interested. No and no, my good sirs. Move along.
Then my train of thoughts took me into Speculationville, where I began to wonder, well my husband does social media, was he using it to meet dudes? And before typing that sentence it was unknown, however, my mind reminded mid-type that I have since learned of an incident where he did stuff with this dude he obsessively talked to on Facebook, so yes. He has used it to meet dudes. So, it was just a guilty conscious that transferred into assuming I was doing the same. (Jesus our relationship is fucked up.)
Look, I don’t fault him for the stuff that happened in the past. Trust me, I have done much worse. So, I have moved passed it (a little). (I’m still coping.) What I don’t take kindly to is being compared to some dude when the thing he was using to compare him to me (saying he was better) he does! Like, fuck me for reaching out and trying to make friends or have a voice. I didn’t know that he was supposed to be my “everything” when I know he wouldn’t do the same.
(God, I want a cigarette.)
And all of this is small potatoes in the grand scheme of things. Oh, the bitch has an Instagram? “Gasp.” You don’t say. I guess I just don’t like being compared to someone or told that what I’m doing is wrong when someone is doing the same thing. And that leads me to a larger resentment that I don’t even know if I have voiced, I’m super pissed that I was made to feel like shit about my past discretions when my husband was doing the same thing. When I straight-up asked him if he had done anything his answer was always an indignant “no.” My heart would sink because he “proved” once and for all that I was the biggest piece of shit. But as it turns out, I’m not! He is! For lying right to my face. And he can hide it under the guise of “Oh, well, I didn’t want to give you more reason to do it.” That’s bull shit. He just didn’t want to fess up to the fact that he did do those things. He didn’t want to see himself as being the same. (Which I can get.) Then there is the fact that I don’t think he’s apologized. Maybe he has and I just have forgotten because all of the information given to me has flooded my mind. I went ahead and just forgave him, but…
Ugh… I got to let this go. I did forgive him. By doing that I don’t need an apology. I took that out of the equation.
What does all this mean? Nothing. Absolutely nada. It’s just fun to chronicle and casually rewatch this train wreck.
Oh, I had another thought.
So, he wants me to meet this dude. I don’t know if I am ready for that. Maybe I am. Who fucking knows. Everything is totally new. But I am open to do it. He says because he wants to get rid of the “secrecy” (whatever that fucking means.) Yet, last night he told me he just pretends that things with me and Josh don’t exist. Like it’s not happening. Yet… He has said he would meet him. Fuck. I don’t know. I haven’t the slightest clue where I was going with this.
I just have this need to overthink things until I have mutilated them beyond recognition.
Or, I just want a fucking cigarette and am taking umbrage with the fact that I cannot.