In the long, long ago, in the before time I was in a relationship with someone who will remain nameless. In fact, if her name is mentioned in the comments, I’ll delete the comment. I don’t ever do that, but I’ll make the exception. I have and will continue to refer to her as Voldebitch.
After her and I split, with lots of fingerpointing and harsh words, we eventually got to the point where we didn’t talk at all. I had a website before this one where I had a list, the infamous “list,” of girls I once had feelings for. This was a cry for attention from a lonely, confused, and repressed young man. He is no more. I’d like to take this opportunity to appologize to everyone that was on that list. It was rude, improper, and unfair for all of you. At any rate, there was tension regarding the fact that Voldebitch and her best friend, who I have since named Wormcunt, were on this list. The site no longer exists, thank God. After that dust settled, there was silnce, and it was nice.
Several weeks later I started recieving emails from someone who claimed to have gone to my old high school and remembered me. I hadn’t a clue who the hell she was, but this was something that had happened before, even when the person is standing right in front of me. I had dressed as one of the Deans for Halloween one year and was known for it for years to come. Not that I’m famous by any stretch of the imagination, but for a good two or three years after high school I could almost guarantee that someone would see me every week and mention it. Thank God that faded away.
Back on track, I recieved these emails and was instantly curious. I was single, lonely, and slightly depressed so anybody paying attention to me in a positive way made me all warm and fuzzy inside. I went straight to the high school yearbooks at a friend’s house. Nothing. I asked everyone I knew from high school. Nothing. I was suspicious, and rightly so. The emails dwindled, then were non-existant.
Several months later I get an email from Voldebitch. The content of the email was a white flag, but the name of the person sending the email was not hers, but rather the name of the girl that was sending me those emails. I was furious. I told her never to contact me again. She said that it was Wormcunt, not her, but that she had given Wormcunt her nom de plume to use. What the fuck ever. An accomplice in betraying my trust recieves the same judgement, excommunication from the Loop. A bitter reply came back, I replied with a short and sweet request for no more contact, then blocked her email address. She said something about getting married, as if that was some sort of proof that she was over me. Poor guy.
I didn’t really feel this was something I’d ever want to blog about, but I saw Wormcunt yesterday in the Best Buy parking lot driving in the oppoosite direction, and it got those feelings and memories churning about in the back of my huge cranium. This would have been one of those moments when a hood mounted rail gun would have been handy.
It was a hellish time, but because of it I’m wiser, and that’s all anyone can ask, right? Well that and that they suffer a slow painful death by my hand…