Of all the people I have been in a relationship with (if you can call it that), only one of them stands out because of the sheer level of ‘jerk’ hormones flowing through his veins (or through whatever it is that hormones flow). Most people have been telling me all this while that slamming your ex in a public forum is not cool. But my ex deserves special treatment. The blogosphere doesn’t deserve to be sullied by the amount of trash I want to heap on him every time I hear his name.
SB (NOT just his initials. It’s SonofaBitch too I am guessing.) was, or rather is, a smooth-talking charming (ha!) bastard with a pathological need for approval. He thinks he is smart, intelligent, efficient and different, (which he is incidentally. No one comes close to him in being a two-faced asshole.) and has to validate it by hook or by crook. He is a damn good listener; I will give him that. He listens to everything you say with great sympathy, assures you that you’re not at fault and tells you that you should probably screw the people who’re messing with you. Then he will turn around and bitch about you to the next person who pretends to care. Supremely feminine bitchiness and sarcasm come naturally to him. And by some bad karma if you happen to be his girlfriend, be prepared to be treated like a toy for the rest of your life (if you are brain-dead) or 1 week (if you are sensible) or 6 months (if you are an ass with just a semblance of semi-human intelligence like yours truly). Because that’s what he likes-he likes to control people, likes to make toys out of them, broken toys damaged in several levels at that. We started off on a terrific note; and five months into the ‘relationship’, I was offering silent prayers to all the 333 crore gods the Hindu religion claims to venerate to give him a heart attack.
And he is the biggest male chauvinistic pig to have walked the face of this earth. With all due respect, I think, his mother probably had made a pact with the devil while SB was still in the womb that has rendered him the emotional equivalent of an eighty year old Hindu fanatic priest who quotes verbatim from the Manu Smriti. You can’t drink or smoke or talk to men or have male friends. Going out with them for coffee or a walk, talking to them over the phone, chatting with them etc are as out of question as Voldemort marrying a Mudblood (no offense). Once you are in a relationship with him, you get chained at his side for the rest of your life with a chastity belt choking you to death. If you had indulged in binge drinking or smoked weed with friends or kissed a guy anytime before the relationship, the guy will make sure that you cry and start hating your own guts for what you have done and begging him to forgive you. (even though it’s been a while at this point I still wonder why the earth doesn’t split in half and just swallow me.)Yes he can brainwash you to admit that it was all a cardinal sin and you deserve to go put your head inside an oven or so. And the whole time, he will keep on insisting that “see I don’t have a problem with your past… I am just not comfortable with what others say about you…I just want to make sure you are a good person that’s all… if I had known this earlier, I’d have never considered dating you…”. And when your dignity and common sense have completely abandoned you and he is showing signs that he is “willing to take you back”, he will say “it’s okay. I know it was a mistake. But I know you are genuinely sorry and when we break up I will leave you a very good person.”
He will dig up dirt on you and keep dropping hints that he knows something about you he doesn’t approve of. If you are too dumb to take a hint (even when he gives you subtle indications like “I am upset”-guilty) or just couldn’t care less, a meth lab will explode inside his head and he will star ranting stuff like “you know I am not happy with you and STILL you don’t care as if it doesn’t matter.”
And as for the part where he insists he is different from the rest of us mere mortals, he and his friends have this herd-like tendency which make them like the same kind of women (read toys, vegetables), bitch about the people they hang out with, whine about how their respective girlfriends are not who they (the girls that is) have made themselves out to be (in this case, it’d be me), how corporate India is sucking the life out of every soul (read woman) and how they’d love to have their wives get pregnant and leave their jobs and be stay-at-home mums and open the doors every evening excitedly and listen to their husband’s work stories. If you lost me at “hang out with” or you are not following me at all I don’t blame you. He wanted a vegetable for a girlfriend; something tells me my direct and extended clan and he would have got along like a house on fire. Any guy within 1 mile radius of me was suspected of hitting on me while I got screamed at for “being too close to him…why suddenly I am not good enough for you that you got attracted to him…?”. Sample this conversation:
SB: what were you and N doing in the canteen today?
YT: solving Sudoku and talking, generally. Why?
SB: no I just saw him leaning against your breasts and thought should ask, not that it’s any of my business though.
YT: he wasn’t. we were just sitting close because we were solving Sudoku from the same paper.
(okay I used to be this dumbass freak who felt the need of justifying herself every time her boyfriend slammed her for doing something she saw no harm in doing. What? We ALL have moments we live to regret for the rest of our lives. K )
SB: yeah right. (visible sneer and womanly bitchiness writ large across his face). B (best friend/ b@n(#oδ bastard) was right. You are not who you made yourself out to be when I first met you. I thought you would be good. I thought everyone would see us and respect us….bla bla blab la…
He would be a mass of wounded pride and adopt a martyr-like expression and talk to people in an injured voice. Sample this, (if you still care that is):
SB: I wait for you after college. I drop you home everyday. Why cant you spend a single evening with me?
YT: I do. It’s just that exams are coming up and I am up to my neck with work so…
SB: listen you are not doing me any favor by pretending to spend time with me. And I am not your chauffeur so stop treating me like one.
YT: if you have a problem, don’t drop me home then. Spend time with your friends if you like.
SB: (injured martyr voice): see this is the difference between you and me. I don’t drop you home as a favor. I do that because I love you. And I will always do that,
YT: so let’s go? I have work to do.
SB: don’t talk to me in that tone.
YT: okay so don’t come.
SB: blab la blala
In all the six months that I have been with home, he made me fall out with most of my friends, accused me of being a slut, bitched about my friends to his friends, went around telling people that my best friend and her boyfriend are like hippies in a love inn (because they had committed the cardinal sin of smoking weed), that she is pregnant and I am this dirty skanky whore who is friends with women like her (her being my best friend), I am this sad, messed up little girl who needs help and he is this messiah whose sole vocation in life is to make me a respectable person. Five months (yes I am an idiot) into the “relationship”, I would have even traded my soul with the devil to find the nearest exit (and I am *not* exaggerating).
Adding to this already fucked up situation was that An, one of my closest friends had a huge crush on me and didn’t make a very good job of hiding it. So I was blamed for seducing him (big surprise there. Also did I hear someone snigger?), of making him fall for me and then acting all coy about it. I take the liberty to assume that he compared me with Belle dam sans merci but in a very very unflattering, really unsexy way that was major turn off. The day he “borrowed” my phone and checked my inbox and then hacked into my email account to go through my mails and chat archives was the last straw.
I had the good sense to stop talking to him and cut off all contacts with him and his bunch of wannabe, smarmy friends. It was one month of severe depression with a sense of doom hanging in the air that no amount of coffee could fix. I was sucked into this vortex of gloom that made me question my sanity, my self-respect and sense of dignity, that how could I let someone just walk over me like that. All sorts of allegations were being levied against me because SB, who was *still* officially my boyfriend, went around telling whoever would listen that how I screwed up this wonderful thing we had going and how I was this slut who had ruined his life blab la blab. Finally I had the guts to make the distress call to my best friend. Who had warned me about this but was mature enough to not interfere in my “relationship” and let me come to my senses on my own. She did not for once tell me “I told you so” which my mother did multiple times in a voice dripping with heavy sarcasm. Instead of judging, C was there, understanding, speaking the voice of reason which went missing from my life for the six months before that phase. Several questions popped up inside my head-am I the poster girl for loserdom? Am I just this pushover who lets people wipe their feet on me often enough to let me know that I am, well, a pushover? Is something fundamentally wrong with my genetic wiring that made me date someone who feeds on making people feel guilty all the time? Only thing standing between me and full-blown state of clinical depression was C who made me realize that how important it is to not settle for love. Only love.
So finally after a month of licking raw wounds, I reached a state of emotional crescendo and went ballistic. All hell broke loose inside me head and I called him up and told him what exactly I thought of him. As much as I am tempted to write about it, I will skip the expletives-laden one-sided shouting match we had.
A lot of things changed after I dumped him. For starters, I no longer remained the naïve, wide-eyed projection of Bambi innocence. I became bitter, cynical with momentary flashes of foreboding and fleeting moments of doubts and self-loathing. Also I did something really bad which I am thoroughly ashamed of but this is not the time and place to talk about that (remember I am in mourning and this post is not about slamming me but my ex.) Most people didn’t do a great job of concealing their judgmental tones. Only a handful of them, kept on telling me that it wasn’t my fault and I shouldn’t let him get to me like this but within the four walls of my mind there was this nagging voice that kept on rubbing export quality corrosive salt on my wounds and reminding me every day that I had been an idiot. It wasn’t the breakup that bugged me. Hell! The breakup was one of the best things that have happened to me ever. Also there are worse things in life that can happen to you that just a petty breakup. It was the idea that I could kill my brain cells and date someone like SB. It was during this post-breakup phase that I developed the habit of equating commitment and marriage with a concentration camp. And slowly started turning into an emotional blank slate. In a parallel universe or a Technicolor imagination I had kidnapped my ex and had fun shooting his b***s with a laser gun; in reality, I let reality come to bite me in the rear every now and then.
I don’t know what helped me to snap out of the gloom and state of self-imposed exile. Maybe it was the resentful acceptance of the fact that I was an idiot but the universe is known to have conspired against every person and played sick cosmic jokes on him/her so I am not the only idiot around. Maybe it was after meeting G that I realized that if someone as damaged as him can crawl out of bed every morning and face life, my life can still kick every other life’s ass with nice pointy heels (with all due respect to other’s lives. I am mourning; cut me some slack will you? L). Also C stood by me through thick and thin. Boyfriends will come and go but you never run out of reasons to celebrate having a best friend in your life. J
I am not the best person to give relationship advice but I am a Libran and as a Libran and a woman I should never miss an opportunity to give relationship gyaan. So here it is:
Never date someone who is a humorless pain in the ass, someone who takes himself too seriously and who makes you feel guilty for no particular fault of yours. Cut your losses and never look back. If you are like me 3 months after breakup, excuse yourself politely and run. If you anything like the ‘present me’, give him hell and make him run. But don’t be in a relationship just for the heck of it and don’t satisfy your need for one with a…I have no right word to express this at the moment…with someone like my ex. Or worse, if that is ever possible. Celebrate the wonderful person that you are!
Now why don’t the Chicken Soup people ask me to write for them?