Journal Entries of a Fake Savage: Raina

Scrolling my timeline I saw a picture of Sean and his new girlfriend kissing and "doing the most". I liked it instantly. I knew the picture was posted for me to see and I wanted him to know I saw it and DID NOT CARE.

I did though. I felt a pang when I saw it because the new girl was prettier than me. I hoped she was horrible in bed and/or had bad hygiene. My jealousy was out of line, but I couldn't help myself. I'd definitely made him a better human being (for her benefit now), but somehow it was my fault that he couldn't commit and stop being a cheating dog.

Meanwhile, I'd vowed to take time out of the "dating pool" because I was just sitting there turning into a social raisin. [sigh] I really needed to find myself in the all encompassing shell of "Sean's Ex Girlfriend" and break out. Unfortunately, this was how I'd come to define myself and I couldn't move forward because I was STILL holding onto Sean's potential. Ahhh potential-- such a dangerous thing to a person who clearly deserves more than what they're getting in a relationship. I'd seen him in my dreams and he came to me and made my life a nightmare. Now I dream of someone else while still holding to the lingering remnants of his "potential".

Obviously I needed someone that'd already realized their potential. I think Sean knew his potential, but didn't care to put in effort to reach it. The more I pushed him to be better, the more he did things to undo our progress. It was tiring and killed my spirit, but somehow I still thought he may just change for this new girl and she'd reap the benefits of my hard work. That thought was hard to deal with and it was the source of what led me back to him several times before. This time was different. This time I was putting my foot down. Enough with the cat and mouse games. I was solid... strong... fearless... bold! ...I also needed a distraction and attention.

I texted my guy friend, Charles. He was always there for me and would find some way to keep me focused. After a 7 minute exchange (he always texted back fast), I agreed to meet him for burgers and shakes at our favorite place. (Ten o'clock wasn't too late to hang out with a friend.) I threw on some sweats and a tank-top and and headed to meet him. I was feeling better already.


Given this situation is probably familiar to most, tell me what happened next in the comments.

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