Forever actually became more of a reality than a theory and I found myself still waiting even after he told me he’d get a divorce after his two kids graduated high school. Can you believe that? I mean at this point in my life his kids were five and a year old! Wait until they graduate, I thought to myself this asshole is crazy. Fast forward eighteen years later, still no divorce, no plans for us to be together and he (they) decided to buy a house near his kids in San Antonio when they carted off his daughter to UT San Antonio. Some of you may actually think that my waiting for him was stupid, it was. But again judging someone for their actions without knowing firsthand what their situations are is usually very, um how can I put this, it’s very throwing stones while living in glass houses type of hypocrisy. So put your stones back in your silk purse ladies before you decide that you’ve lived a pious and sin free life before judging others for their decisions in life. Why do I say this? Because I too have been one to judge before knowing the actual truth about someone or something. We’ve all done it, we’re human but sometimes there are people, particularly women, who feel the need to make other women feel like they aren’t living up to whatever fucked up image or standard they have in their own fucked up minds.
It’s kind of the adult version of being bullied, and women are definitely the worst at this. Even as adults we tend to be extremely critical of our own gender when it comes to fashion, parenting, careers, education, friendships and of course, personal relationships. Status is a kind of thing we use to gauge success on every level, and it’s wrong. But let me continue before I get off track here, back to the emotional vampire I called a boyfriend, I’m going to call him Lestat ( even though his name is Robert). Looking back now, for the first ten years of our “relationship” he was very manipulative and I let him because I was convinced I loved him. Why? Because I honestly believed he was Prince Charming and that he would eventually come around because he told me he loved me too.
Boy was that stupid, along with his professions of “love” he also threw in there the “I never promised you anything” and “I won’t ever fight for you.” This emotional type of affirmation was all for him, not me, these words actually made him believe that he would be absolved of any responsibly or commitment whatsoever in our relationship. It’s a trick that obsessive-compulsive emotional vampires use to get their way without making it seem that their getting their way. In any case in the first decade of our relationship I bent over backwards to give him anything and everything he wanted. And what did I get in return? Not a fucking thing! He automatically assumed that I would do anything and wait around no matter how long because he knew I loved him.
And, yes I did and yes it was stupid but I was blinded by the image of Prince Charming (yeah that guy again, where the fuck was he and why didn’t he rescue me from this guy?) and I held this man to that image, whom I was convinced that he was the greatest love of my life. In spite of the emotional manipulation I never once saw this man for what he really was, a liar and a cheat because for the first decade of our relationship he gave me a few small gems of happiness. And I was happy with that, of course looking back now I say to myself “what in the FUCK were you thinking? I mean really the man is the stereotypical asshole disguised as a good guy.” And he was (is) when he pretended to be that Charming guy he did it well and I believed him. He played the part to the tee, and I took in every single drop of it.
He’d rent hotel rooms for us to spend some weekends at, he did what I believed to be one of the most romantic things I believed he could do, pay attention to what I liked and didn’t like. Once when we went into Juarez (ahem, before it was considered the most violent city and the murder capital of the world, I wouldn’t be caught dead there now, pardon the pun) to have lunch, we had an appetizer of beef soup. The soup had cilantro in it, for the record I HATE cilantro, it’s probably the most repulsive taste next to liver I can think of. Yes I know, being Hispanic we should all love cilantro but that’s a fucking stereotype. Just like everyone thinks that all Hispanics love Mexican music (if rigaton and nortenas had a taste they’d be in the same category as cilantro, I’m just sayin’).
Or that we all LOVE the Mexican flag, we all wear cowboy hats, wear Mexican boots, drink tequila, are raging alcoholics, drive low-riders, smoke weed have cousins that are cholos/cholas (okay that one may be true) or that we all get married at sixteen and have tons of kids and live with our parents until they die so we can inherit their house. Wait, scratch the last one because well, you fucking know why. But I didn’t live with my parents or have tons of kids……I had three, three boys……
Back to the cilantro in my soup (potential book title? Hmm, maybe) as the waiter brought the bowls of soup to our table and set them down in front of us, my boyfriend said “wow this looks good” and I stared at him and didn’t say anything. He asked me what was wrong, and I said the soup had cilantro in it, he knew I didn’t like it. So he took my bowl and put it next to him and with the soup spoon proceeded to take out every single leaf of that soapy tasting weed until none was left in the bowl of hot broth. I almost cried, no one and I do mean no one had ever done something so personal and caring for me in my life. That is when I thought, this guy HAS to be Prince Charming why would he do that, right? Small things like this kept me thinking that he was perfect, that he was going to be “the” one. I was blinded by the small insignificant gestures when I should have seen the bigger picture of who he really was. But love makes us stupid and blind, and deaf. Stay tuned for part four……