March 7: Bad Feeling

I brood. I brood. Where is the logic? I end a relationship with X, a man who is very good to me in so many ways, but perhaps not quite enough. I begin a new one with a man who I have liked for a while (FTB). Despite the pain and heart-ache of losing the old, I am embarking upon something new, something different, something that hopefully suits me better but time will tell. The ex is very sad. He wants me back. He tries to go out with other women. He sleeps with one, a woman who I’ve always known wanted him, who has been all-over him in my company, stroking his thighs, holding his hand, which he never really addressed and I suppose only cemented bad feeling on my part. He sleeps with her once. But he doesn’t want her, he wants me. And I won’t take him back. So why do I still brood? What’s it to me who he sleeps with? I have no right to care. He can do what he wants – I did, after all. But it’s because I hate her. Hate her for tainting it all, tainting the memories, hate her for sleeping with him. Hate her for always wanting him, and making sure I knew it. Perhaps this is why I went for FTB. No other woman wants him, not for as long as I’ve known him anyway. No one-night stands. No cheeky gropes. No dates. He’s asexual, keeping himself clear from all us felines, keeping away from trouble, saving himself for ‘mrs right’ – until I messed things up, of course. With X, there was more than just one after him. It felt like they were lining up, vultures circling ahead, waiting for the death-blow, the carnage, sharpening their claws to pick over the wreckage. Women who I knew wanted him, who weren’t my friends, who I was always threatened by. He is, after all, a very eligible chap. I hate competition over men. I always lose, either during or after a relationship. There’s always some woman I know who leaps into their pants to massage their pain away within days of the break-up. I’d rather dib out at the slightest whiff. You want my man, here, have him, take him, he’s all yours, you win. I’ll sign him over to you right now if you’ll only hand me a pen. Well, she’s had my X now. Hope he was worth it. I brood, I brood.