Ladies and gentleladies, friends and enemies, gather round because I have some exciting news to share.
It turns out that Mr. Cartier is indeed, yes, you guessed it, a COWARD!
He had us all fooled with the Prada glasses and his ability to make homemade bread but it turns out Mr. Cartier was his alias.
He is in fact, Mr. Vagina.
You know how Dr. Jekyll had his bad ass violent alter ego, the one and only Mr. Hyde?
Well it seems my daddy dearest had his own alter ego; the boy who cried love.
Mr. Vagina is actually a distant cousin to Mr. Volcano, the boy who declared once that he loved me but he just couldn't be in love right now and instead fled to the mountains of Alaska where he still resides to this day.
I was given a clue as to this relation when one day, weeks or so ago, I shared the story of Mr. Volcano with Mr. Vagina and when I repeated how he'd said he loved me but just couldn't be in love, Mr. Vag simply replied, "What's wrong with that?"
Hoh hoh hoh.
What's wrong with that?
What's WRONG with that?
You mean because you're doing the same thing you apron wearing green fairy!
Get your own bloody script!
Be an original, for Christ's sake.
I've been in this story.
I've STARRED in this story.
Your version is so much less romantic.
It's like this sad, drawn out Chekhov play and you're just screaming at the stage, Oh just DIE already! For the love of Anya, make SOMETHING happen! This inaction is making me fall asleep in my program.
He sent me a cute kitty picture.
He'd blown me off all day when I'd tried to address the uncertainty of us and I'd written that if I didn't hear from him that night, I was assuming it was the final nail in the coffin that was our romantic relationship.
Fairly simple instructions.
Interested? Respond. Not interested? Continue blowing me off.
So what does he do?
He sends me a fucking kitten.
Which was always his childish way of saying, I love you! Here's a smile!
Then he made sure a couple hours later that I understood him correctly.
"I don't want to get back together, but I wanted to send you that anyway."
Hi, Passive Aggressive?
Have you met your uncle, Mr. Vagina?
I'm sorry.
What was that?
And why, pray tell, did it take you so many months to admit this?
"I hadn't decided yet."
Awe.
Uh huh.
I see.
But now you have.
And why, because of me?
"Yes."
Right.
Because the whole "this has nothing to do with you, I keep trying to tell you, this is about me and what I want in my future..."
Blah blah BLEH.
Hairball.
That was all a L.I.E?
Or is this all a L.I.E?
What about when you called my Daddy and told him how much you wuved his wittle daughter and how you wanted her in your future?
Was THAT the L.I.E?
Wait.
I get it.
You're a fucking coward and never are honest when it comes to your feelings.
THAT'S IT!
I've been jerked around.
For loooooooooong enough.
But what a relief to know that I have the power to sway a grown man's mind.
A mind, that for three months was so overwhelmingly uncertain about what it wanted.
How fucking magical I am!!
Eve, move over, honey.
I am capable of turning the indecisive to decision.
You see, all you have to do is share with it the fact you're moving on and kissing another man and just clarifying that you really don't care if I date other people because this guy really likes me and he seems nice and I'm gonna give it a real shot so speak now or forever hold your peace.
So here's a fucking kitten.
Oh, but I don't want to be with you.
And you're the reason I finally made up my mind.
It's your fault.
Because obviously I take no responsibility in the decisions I eventually make.
I do have a vagina for fuck's sake.
Thank God I'm no longer a dike.
Bring on the next penis!
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