The Funeral

Some of the greatest people I've had the pleasure of meeting in my lifetime have been through social networking sites. I've learned so much through these people. Therefore I am grateful for the internet. Without it I would have never had the pleasure of learning the things these people taught. The young lady who inspired this post is hilarious, but she has been more influential to my growth this year than she will ever know. Just a few simple tweets from her have saved my life. Okay, that's a tad dramatic, but she did say some cool things that really helped me to get over myself.

The second most important thing I've learned from her was mentioned in this blog post by her: What Did You Just Call Me: In it she talked about never seeing her ex's again after they broke up. She said she had a funeral for them in her mind and it was like they never existed. It wasn't to be morbid or bitter. Instead it was used as a coping mechanism. There's only one person recorded in history who came back after he was buried, and I'm sure none of my ex's fit the description of this dude.

Well, that must be nice, because when I logged onto Facebook the other day I had a friend request from an ex I never should have dated, let alone hear from again. He was one of those people who was created only to have one night stands. Not two nights, not stand-in booty calls, not to have his number stored for taudry nights of drunk dialing, just a one night stand and nothing more. No one should even have more than one round of sex with this dude. The main reason for this was because his sex was only good the first time. After that he became an incredibly selfish poor performer. The only reason I even kept him around was because I was a stupid, hopeless romantic who felt like if I kept treating him right he would one day wake up and be wonderful to me.

The fairytale never came true. Instead I spent months of him driving chicks around town in my car while I was at work. He was always an hour late picking me up from work. When I protested (or maybe I went off) he would get his entire family to jump on me, attack my character, and point out every flaw in my personality. I don't think the man was faithful to me a single day of our relationship. He rarely wanted his children around me, and he rarely wanted to be around my children. When I asked him to spend the night with me he refused, saying that was too much like moving in together, and he was still trying to get over living with his baby's mother. (His baby was, like, four, and he and the mother split up when his "baby" was an actual baby). We went on two dates the whole time we were together. Of course I paid for them both, because I was stupid. Whenever I asked him for something as simple as a Whopper from Burger King, he got his mother to yell at me for being selfish with his money. If there was a night where he wanted to use my car while I was at work and I didn't feel like giving it to him, he would get his mother on me. His mother even came to my job one time, demanding my car keys for something or other. (Back then I was still under the impression that I couldn't say no to people's mothers, so whatever she said I did, even though I was 24). Above all, 5 months and three weeks into our relationship, he had the audacity to look at me and say, "Oh. You're a writer? I didn't know that." I was dumb enough to stay with him, because I hated failure, especially in relationships. Yes, that was the only reason I stayed with him.

This dude made me so angry that I tried to run him over with my car, which is what I have decided was his cause of death. I didn't do it, though. I only witnessed it via YouTube. After viewing it I got a phone call  asking me to write the eulogy. Somehow they remembered I was a writer (even though he never told them that) and figured that only I could put into words what needed to be said about him. So I strutted up to the podium wearing a form-fitting pinstriped suit, a fedora, and black boots with killer five inch silver spiked heels. As I walked I wondered why we were in a church. Dude was a Jehovah's Witness. They also waited a whole week just for me to say what I had to say. They even paid for my plane and rented a car for me to get around my home town in while I was there. Looking over the sea of faces - mostly females that I'm sure he cheated on me with - I saw a lot of crocodile tears. Those people didn't care about him. Honestly, I didn't care about him either. I just didn't want to fail. In this I failed myself epically.

"We're all here for one reason or another. Some of you genuinely loved this dude. I didn't. I only told him I loved him because he said it first when I bought him a cheeseburger for the eighth time and paid for a night in a motel. He treated me like crap the whole time we were together. I'm actually still waiting for the trip to the Chinese buffet and the birthday present he promised to give me for my twenty-fifth birthday. I'm sure he still has the canary diamond earrings I gave him for his. The sneakers I bought him are probably long gone. Shoutout to him for proving my aunt right: If you buy a man a pair of sneakers he'll walk all over you.

"I'm sorry the girl ran him over with his own car. I know she got tired of seeing it posted on Facebook with different girls on the hood. Stay strong, girl. I've been there. In fact, I was once behind the wheel of a vehicle, ready to end his life for every heartless thing he did to me. I was called crazy for that. The only thing that can legally bind me to crazy is the fact that I stayed with him. Even after ramming the hood of my Dodge Stratus into his back I still stayed. But to you, chick, I say 'kudos' for getting behind the wheel of the vehicle with his name on the title, putting it in gear, and flattening him like a pancake, crushing every single bone in his entire body. Not only are you understood; you are appreciated.

"Was this guy a good father? I guess. To the children he left behind I am truly sorry for your loss. He sucked as a boyfriend, though, and as a person. He died still living on the floor of his friend's mother's living room, sleeping under a Scooby Doo comforter. Even though he made enough money to buy a house, he chose to stay there, because he didn't know how to think for himself. Now who will the people who controlled our relationship dictate? Whose girlfriend/ex-girlfriend will his friends hit on? Who will his mother bully? I'm sorry he died without learning how to speak for himself. His life ended without him telling the best thing he ever had how he felt about her.

"In conclusion, I'm sorry your life sucked so bad. I'm sorry it came to an end. Please don't think of me as morbid as I stay behind at the burial and watch them lower his casket into the ground. I just have to see the dirt cover his coffin so that I can know he's gone forever and can never come back into my life. This way I know I'll never get a friend request from him on any social networking site. I'll never have to worry about him getting my phone number again and calling me at 2am, begging for a booty call. I don't have to think about him driving by my house, thinking he can just come over like he paid a bill or something. I need to know that I'll never have to fear hearing the words he said to me during the final seconds of our relationship: 'You a pussy. I see the bitch in your eyes every time you walk by.' I need to know that you'll never call me again, totally in disbelief that I was able to move on from you. When I learned that he only wanted to destroy me I had to see that he was destroyed first. I had to see that the time he wasted for me ran out for him.

"And then I need to say a brief word of thanks. Through this awful relationship I learned some very important lessons. Not only did I learn that I shouldn't stay with a person solely because I don't want a relationship to end. I also learned how valuable time is, because the time I spent with him was a complete and total waste. Since then I've learned not to get into a relationship that I'm not getting anything out of. I learned that when people show you they're nothing more than dick you use them for just that, if and only if it's worth it, and then you move on. Last but not least, I learned what a healer Monica's A Dozen Roses CD can be during a messy breakup with a person who is too arrogant to just go away."