It’s Not Fair! (Or, a random post in which I try to make the tragic funny. And then just give up).


Oh. Hey there. Been awhile, huh? And, yeah – I wish this meant I was back too (I missed writing long tirades where I write the same statement three different ways, too). Unfortunately, not possible yet kiddos. I’m just here to vent for a hot second…

So… yep. Still seeing that-dude-I-named-Canada. GAWD what a pain in my ass. I mean, seriously. Relationships. I don’t know why anyone even bothers. Did I ask to be in one? Nope. Sure didn’t. And yet.


Here I am. In a relationship. With another person. For going on, oh fuck, like ten months. And things are well… pretty much awesome.

Goddamnit.

You know that song I blogged about, oh, um, here? And, you know how maybe once-upon-a-time lyrics like “save tonight/and fight the break of dawn/come tomorrow/tomorrow I’ll be gone…” were just so tragically romantic *le-sighhhhhh*? Well. Let me tell ya something kittens.


It’s not really all that romantic. It’s pretty much just fucking fucking tragic.

Yes, things with Canada are awesome. One of the things I like about him is his independence, his ambition. Of course, his independence and his ambition mean he’s really pursuing what he wants from life. I also respect it, because I’m similar. I have very specific goals for myself, where I want to live, what my career will look like… etc (and, can we all please fucking note, those goals have never included “get married” or “have babies” or anything even remotely similar. Let’s just note that.)


Canada also has such goals. Very fucking specific ones.

And therein lies the catch (and it’s a doozy kittens). Our goals do not, in any way, actually fucking match.

No, I’m serious. I always been a can’t-wait-to-move-back-West person. I’m tied to the ocean. Etc. Canada? He’s a gonna-move-back-to-northern-New-England person. And he’s tied to, well, large game animals. Like moose and things. He also loves to hunt. And apparently you can’t do that anywhere but New England. Oh, excuse me, you can’t do that right anywhere but New England.

FML. Really. F. M. L.

In addition, (for added fun!) things are moving rather rapidly for Canada. Unexpectedly. Like, we may only have a couple months before it’s… sayonara, babe. Save tonight and all that jizz.

Look. Ok. Yes, I just started this post with a long winded angsty sort-of trying-to-be funny intro (yep you missed me). But. FUCK.


This isn’t fair. I didn’t ask to be in a goddamn relationship. I didn’t want to meet anyone. Yeah yeah yeah that’s how it always happens and blah blah blah. I get it. And shut the fuck up.

Because I have this fucking awesome thing that I didn’t, actually, ask for. That didn’t, apparently, go away the next morning (and, by the way because Life just wants to fuck with me, the sex just keeps getting better, not boring. He actually matches my sex drive. Life plays, er, dirty).


And…. I’m going to have to say goodbye. If I want to have all the things I want in life. So he can have all the things he wants in life. And…  I don’t know how I can ever do that. Right now? Pure, brutal honesty? I can’t imagine being in a relationship with anyone else. Ever. I don’t even want to. I mean, I know that I’ll get through whatever happens. I know that. But still.

Yes. It sounds so fucking romantic and tragic and shit – star-crossed lovers or some crap. But it’s not. It’s not romantic. It’s just fucking. tragic.

OK ok ok. I’m being maybe a lil mildly overdramatic here. Maybe the goodbye won’t be forever. We’ve already talked and we’re going to try the long-distance thing. We will. And it’s not to say things are over, there are still options. I’m the first to tell you who knows where life will go. Maybe, just maybe, it’ll work out. I think there is some hope. Some chance we can make this work…

Oh, yeah, also? Pretty sure he wants kids. Me? Nooooooo thank you. So, there’s that, too.

It’s just… what fucks me up is that gooddamn song. The save tonight fight the break of dawn bullshit.


Yes – we will try the long-distance crap but… one day, far far sooner than I will ever be ready for it… that goddamn song is going to be my goddamn life. And I do not know how I will get through that shit. Fuck you, Mr. Eagle Eye Cherry. Fuuuuuuck you.


And it’s not romantic. It’s just. fucking. tragic.

Who does this happen to? How is this even remotely fair? Why can’t he just follow me around the country and we’ll travel and have disposable income and dogs? Where did I ever say I even wanted this crap? Who fucking likes relationships, anyway? What the fuck am I supposed to do about this?

FML. The end.