I said it made me very happy to realize that the former cashier at that grocery store I still patronize actually cared for me. Well, maybe not. I ran this latest post up the flagpole, and seemed to score points more for inadvertently making digs at the person she actually is instead of hitting the more hopeful tone of my last post just right. How can someone really care for me who just wanted to torment me with her continued absence? Okay, with the aid of some women in my world, she tormented me with her absence. That all fell by the wayside when I wrote that I'd still love her whether or not she showed. I stand by that one. Boy, if she never shows from now on, that'd be fine with me. I'd still love her, too.
In 1990, I confided to one of my sisters my fixation on Gwen at School of Visual Arts. She said these deals have a way of playing out. At a support group meeting at the beginning of June, I said that if she didn't show in a few weeks, okay, that's it. On the 22nd of June I wrote that last post. What do you know, her game is played out, in my estimation. She's got nothing. She's still just a punk. And I don't mean a punk like Polly Styrene, or Johnny Rotten, or Joey Ramone, but just an everyday, ordinary punk. And I made her look bad. I beat her, bad. Hooray for me!
Look at the last several posts. One of them said tactics such as her working the perpetual absence angel will work for a while, and what do you know, it did. Then one day, that stuff just doesn't work anymore. What does work for me is to have both my own and her best interests at heart in EVERY move I've made since she started in on me in February, 2019. Works for me. She's a punk. Hooray for me!
I don't know if all I'd been through and the decisions I made along the way can benefit even one other person, but it sure benefitted me. What to do when one falls for the wrong person seems to concern a lot of people these days. Remember, my mental illness seemed to put me on a path to personal ruin with this tendency I have, this tendency to fall for the wrong person, and I think I've done very, very well at managing it.
In 1990, I confided to one of my sisters my fixation on Gwen at School of Visual Arts. She said these deals have a way of playing out. At a support group meeting at the beginning of June, I said that if she didn't show in a few weeks, okay, that's it. On the 22nd of June I wrote that last post. What do you know, her game is played out, in my estimation. She's got nothing. She's still just a punk. And I don't mean a punk like Polly Styrene, or Johnny Rotten, or Joey Ramone, but just an everyday, ordinary punk. And I made her look bad. I beat her, bad. Hooray for me!
Look at the last several posts. One of them said tactics such as her working the perpetual absence angel will work for a while, and what do you know, it did. Then one day, that stuff just doesn't work anymore. What does work for me is to have both my own and her best interests at heart in EVERY move I've made since she started in on me in February, 2019. Works for me. She's a punk. Hooray for me!
I don't know if all I'd been through and the decisions I made along the way can benefit even one other person, but it sure benefitted me. What to do when one falls for the wrong person seems to concern a lot of people these days. Remember, my mental illness seemed to put me on a path to personal ruin with this tendency I have, this tendency to fall for the wrong person, and I think I've done very, very well at managing it.
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