Despertar

i hate being hated

Chris blocked my access to his blog. I can read it, but I can't leave comments, and every comment I had made over the past three months is deleted. Fuck him.

Seriously. And, I mean, I'm probably wrong, to think it's just totally immature and ridiculous for him to do that, but come on, seriously. I know I made him angry, I know his feelings are hurt, I know his blog comment section is (in theory, at least) an extension of his personal space, et cetera, but come on.

Because if he was going to ban me, if he was going to give me the same cursory treatment he gives everyone with whom he argues openly in that forum, he should have at least mentioned it before that last awkward hang-up, and then he should have, I don't know, not written (inaccurately) about what happened between us in a forum where something like two thousand strangers were going to see it? How unfair is that, to subtly bash me by explaining the "breakup" via one vague sentence that makes me sound retarded, and then take away my only avenue by which to defend myself against all the sympathy comments that flooded in, including the one that said "you're better off, she sounds like she's short a few chromosomes anyway"?

Okay, here, again, is what I told him, in so many words: "[I think you're a great guy and I appreciate all you've done for me, but I really don't think it's going to work out because you and I have very different core ideas about things like race and gender, relationships and each other. For instance, it bothers me that you have no problem referring to any woman as a 'cunt,' whether she was rude to you or not. It bothers me that you have no platonic female friends and justify that fact by claiming sex is the only thing for which women are more useful than are other men. And I resent the implication that, simply because you have a high earning potential and I belong to the 'most unmarried demographic in this country,' I am expected to overlook your callousness, filthy mouth, insensitive attitude and refusal to follow my advice about anything ever.]"

It took me half an hour to get through all of it, and to provide specific, detailed support so he wouldn't feel unfairly disregarded.

In his blog, he interpreted that I stopped dating him because "[his] use of the word 'scissorcunt' in [a particular post] tipped [me] over the edge."

Which leads me to believe I should have done exactly the opposite of what I actually did, which was to purposely omit all mentions of problems so intrinsic to his being, it would have been useless to bring them up. I left out the fact that I think he is immature, narcissistic and a budding alcoholic. I didn't tell him how ridiculously annoying he was at parties and clubs, or how someday he needs to learn how to read other people's "don't kiss me now" signals. I kindly spared him the information that I think his friends are socially inept neanderthals, and that I am one hundred percent unshocked at what bad luck they have with women.

And actually, I didn't tell him how much it offended me that, two days after I came home from Atlanta with tales of how proud I was of my brother's probate, Chris wrote a blog post specifically targeting the stupidity and uselessness of black fraternities. Or that I didn't appreciate that time he insisted on spending the night when I clearly did not want him to, pouted and gave me the silent treatment when I told him I was too sleepy to hook up, guilted me into staying awake for the next five hours talking about past relationship traumas (when, again, I had already expressed that I was too sleepy to hook up) and purposely left his keys behind so I'd have to let him come back. Or that it hurt my feelings every time he dropped some offhanded comment about how everyone with a liberal arts degree is lazy and lacks direction.

I didn't even tell him how much he sucks at giving head.

And because I left out all those details, he concluded that it was a baseless and arbitrary breakup.

I have no idea why it makes me so angry. I didn't even like him, and it's obvious that between us, I've gained the upper hand and the better deal. I just didn't do anything wrong, so I find it incredibly irritating, being punished and misrepresented and, ultimately, silenced, so I can't even explain to all his blog groupies (who, trust me, only think he's fabulous, but wouldn't date him, either, if they spent two seconds with him after his second Black Russian) that I actually wasn't a monster to him.

It just sucks.