Shawna cracks

August 11, 2006 - 3:16 p.m.

Well, folks, I finally lost my shit. It was bound to happen, really, after all this stress lately, and the other night I totally lost it. I dealt with the pilot breakup pretty well, considering. Don't you think? Considering my natural tendency would be to sleep 12 hours a day and isolate myself, and get f-a-t. But I managed to somehow keep it together, and I think that going to the gym thing has greatly helped, physically and emotionally.

But the Fag keeps writing me mean emails. Like, "Did you have fun with Hoss the other night?" (Why, yes. Yes I did. See two entries ago.)

I ignore every single one of them. Then one of them was really long and detailed, and threatening. He was saying that he was going to infiltrate my life and start hanging out with my friends and "hooking up" with my Phoenix friends on layover, and dating my girlfriends. And would I like that? Huh? Am I starting to get the point?

"yeah except he is an asshole and none of your friends have any interest in befriending him - friggin shit-stick."

-- was everyone's reply.

I concluded that the emails were not going to stop. The more he "hears" about me, the more I'll hear from him. I thought maybe if I embarrassed him, it would shut him up. So I wrote back very simply: "I really don't have the time or energy for your personal contact. My grandma is literally withering away into a skeleton, my mom is completely falling apart, and I need to take care of my family. Please don't contact me in the future."

I guess he felt dumb. I mean, wouldn't you, too, if you said, "I'm going to have sex with your best friends." And then that person replied, "I'm sorry, what? I can't hear you because my grandma is dying."?

So right after I said, "Don't Contact Me," not five minutes later, there's that A-hole in my Inbox.

“My thoughts have of often been with your family. -especially with your mom. I know she is thankful and appreciative for having a supportive, understanding daughter. I cannot think of anything worse right now than losing a parent. The pain your mother feels every day, every hour must be completely unbearable. I know I will not handle it very well when I am eventually forced to cross that path.

“I am so sincerely sorry for your entire family.”

-- The Fag.

Oh. No. He. Didn’t.

That lit my shit all aflame. Ain’t nobody sending fake condolences to my family. And I also like how he keeps mentioning my mom, as if no one else is affected.

I told myself I wouldn’t respond to him, and I promised my friends I wouldn’t create a “paper trail” if the shit goes down and I want to get a restraining order against him for harassment. But I wrote my girlfriend, “I CAN’T KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT ABOUT THIS ONE.” And she was like, “Don’t do it! Don’t stoop to his level!”

So I put a sock in it, pushed out the jive, but later that night I was at home and I couldn’t get that fuck out of my mind. I started getting a little loco in the cabeza. God, don’t ever leave me alone with my thoughts, because bad things happen.

I decided to go out for a beer with my friends, so I went to the bathroom to wash my face and all of a sudden I just started crying into the sink. Maybe it was that Kelly Clarkson song playing in the background, ya know, that sad one? (See? I totally did not need to include that embarrassing tidbit, that I listen to Breakaway, but I did, because my shit is straight up here, the whole truth, no matter how stupid it makes me look.) ANYWAY. Kelly was moaning from the living room and I’m crying under a faucet. I splash my face with cool water, thinking I’m done, but I’m not. Splash & cry, splash & cry, until the water had been running for 15 straight minutes.

That’s pretty much when I snapped. And went and sat at my computer and puked all my anger into an email to the Fag. You know shit is crazy when I don’t even pause to make a paragraph break. I’m not even going to apologize for what I wrote, or for the fact that it’s essentially one long run-on sentence. I knocked that sucka’s teeth down his throat with my words. But I would have preferred to pull his beating heart out of his chest with my bare hands.
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How dare you send me an email like that, with your horribly transparent, fake sympathy and concern? Nobody is buying your line of shit. You can't spend months tearing me apart piece by piece, treating me horribly, calling me a monster, and then think that you can just pick up your dignity and play nice guy. It's bad enough that you disrespect me, but you disrespect my family and I won't tolerate that. I told them everything, our whole relationship I was honest with my family and I told them everything that you said to me, all the hurtful, horrible things that you said. I didn't lie, there's no need to, the truth is awful enough. I told them the whole truth, including your allegations of me being such a horrible person, a horrible, selfish girlfriend, and someone who can never make a good wife or mother. They said, "Has he ever met you?" You hurt my family. You crushed my mother. You led them to believe that you loved their daughter, that you were committed to her and would honor and cherish her. You lied. They treated you like a son, they made you a member of the family, all under the unspoken agreement that you would uphold our family's values and treat their daughter well and respect us all. They are disgusted by you, that you would subject our family to this charade of yours, your farce of a life. It eventually became clear to everyone that you never, for a moment, had any intentions of marrying me. That you would have strung me along for 7 years if I had let you. My father was not surprised when I told him we had broken up. He said that he thought you were too selfish, materialistic and immature to ever make the sacrifices needed to have a family. That, at 44 years old, you surround yourself with expensive things, but you won't share it with anyone. My mother was gravely disappointed in you. The look on her face…I'll never forget it. Such grief. And maybe embarrassment, for having had such faith and trust in you. My brother and sister think you're a fool, and everyone thinks you're a coward. And my family in Pennsylvania, don't even get me started. You made a commitment to see them and cancelled hours before, and your excuses were nothing more than lies. You weren't there for me, and by extension, my family. They thought I was crazy for being with a man who breaks commitments and chooses his job over family. I spent the whole time there lying, to cover your ass. They were very disappointed in me and made no efforts to hide it. Each person there did not buy your line of bullshit for a second, and made it clear that I need to get my shit together and leave you. I'm so glad I never brought you to meet the Mennonites, so you could have disrespected them, too. I didn't want to tell my grandma that we were broken up, because she was dying and I didn't want to upset her. I wanted her to go thinking that I was ok. She was so happy for us, and it gave her so much peace to know that I would be "taken care of", so she didn't need to worry about me. She would always ask where you are and I would lie and say you had to work. I avoided her questions. I went and saw her last weekend. My mom told me that I need to say goodbye, that this is the end. I sat next to her bed, her body so thin under the sheet, but lumps everywhere. Her body is full of tumors, her torso was covered with lumps. I held her hand and talked to her, telling her how I was going to school to be a teacher, and how I had beat a man at arm wrestling. She asked me questions but she is weak so her voice was so soft. I knew that she was asking about you but I pretended not to understand her. I kept looking away and changing the subject. She said something again and I really didn't understand her, but she turned to me and looked right into my eyes and I knew she saw the pain in my eyes. I held her gaze and saw the whole story flicker in her eyes. First her eyes looked hurt, then betrayed, and for a moment I saw fear. I don't know, maybe she fears leaving me like this, worries if I'll be ok. Then she softened and she just looked sad. She squeezed my hand and whispered something. Some reassurance. I've never seen such wisdom in my grandma's eyes. It's like right before death she's gained all the knowledge of life. She just stared at my face, like she was saying, "It will be ok, I'll look over you." I couldn't even look at her, I was so broken up. I couldn't stand it, I wanted to run from the room. I wanted to lose my shit and just start weeping, tell her I'm sorry for causing her grief and not to worry about me, that I'll be fine. Her eyes haunt me, I keep seeing that look of hurt. I can't even type it without sobbing. I know that in the grand scheme of things that the role you played in my life was just a small bump in a long, long road. And that your effect on me and my family is not that great. And I can take anything you can throw at me, you and the world. But you hurt my family. And you caused my grandma pain in her last days, and for that I will never forgive you. You go through life hurting people, taking all you can get from them until they're exhausted, and then you discard them like they're nothing. And then you blame them for everything and tell them they deserved it. You have no idea what loyalty and commitment are. You think loyalty is not having sex with other women. But there is so much more to it than that. It's about having some reverence for the past, respect for those who treated you with respect and who loved you immensely and unconditionally. It's about having control over your tongue and your emotions and not lashing out to deliberately hurt people and tear them down. It's about taking responsibility for your actions and admitting your wrongdoings. There are more important things in life than your petty, jealous, hateful attacks. They mean nothing to me, they are so small. And I won't even dignify them with a response. You're done being hateful towards me. You're done. I won't hear another awful word out of you. And if you think for a moment of retaliating against me, writing me another malicious email, stalking me at MySpace, using your friends to hurt me, or threaten to sabotage my life, I will get a restraining order against you.
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And that’s it. And despite that threat at the end, of getting a restraining order, he STILL wrote me back, after he got home from a night of drinking. I finally broke him down. I’m not even going to sit here and reprint every goddamn email he writes me, but just know that I broke that bitch.

And I am seriously considering getting an RO against him, for the humiliation factor, so he can have papers served by a sheriff’s deputy knocking at his door. And it will go on his permanent record, and honey, the last thing a pilot needs is ANY kind of record. Especially one that makes you look like a creepy wife beater. The only thing stopping me now from getting an RO is sheer laziness. Having to go to an actual city courthouse (nightmare) and fill out forms and stand in line and follow up for months? And have a hearing with a judge? FUUUUCK. Will you do it for me?

Fuckin’ Fag. They never learn. They never, ever learn, until it is way too late. I could have used his drunken tears exactly one year ago.

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