Sometimes, My Amazing Exes Pop Up...
And it's usually because they're ready to kick a Fuckboys teeth in.
Y’all know Huggie Bear. Pac 10 Champion ballplayer, motivational speaker, dual Masters holding man I adore. He’s always been so fucking far out of my league, I don’t really know how I ever had a shot to begin with.
I can’t even say it’s because I was way hotter back then, because he isn’t shallow or superficial like that. We can literally discuss anything. That’s the reason we say out loud.
I can go to Huggie in my absolute happiest times and he will cheer for me louder than anyone, and remind me of all of the reasons I deserve the success I’ve managed to stumble into.
I can go to Huggie in the absolute most devastating of times, and he will remind me of all of the obstacles I treated like garlic cloves, smashing and then mincing every piece of them. He will then run through the list of qualities he finds my most employable, and tell me how they relate to the situation I’m panicking about.
I dated Huggie Bear 15 years ago. That’s relevant, I think, somehow to the story. It isn’t like we’re newly running this routine. This is our Hail Mary. This is the shit he does when I’m looking at a serious L.
I don’t mention a lot of the times when he suddenly appears on my phone in the middle of the night because I “just so happened” to be stressing, or upset, or in the worst of the times, facing prison. He just knows. He just knows where it hurts, and what to ask to get me to see what needs to be done.
You may be asking yourself, “what in the actual fuck do you bring to the relationship?” Well, in simple terms, not a goddam thing. I’m basically the bitch heating chicken nuggets and taking selfies when it comes to Huggie.
Of course, he doesn’t say that, but it’s true. He is self-sufficient, highly intelligent, more class and character and dignity than 6 or 8 of them Fuckboys I used to kick it with. Man, he’s so fucking far out of my league. Like, that’s the best statement I can apply to the situation. I really lucked up just being able to say he’s on my team.
Huggie is also a perpetual bachelor. He is successful, smart, funny, attractive, driven, and cannot find his someone because God thinks shit like this is funny. Jesus plays too many fucking games.
I am certain he’s dated a few women since me, but I don’t know anything about that. I’m not interested in whichever amazing woman he connected with, but not on that level. Or the stunner who caught his eye, but their timing was off.
If we’re being honest, I like to tell myself that one day when I’m a better person, I’ll be in the right place at the wrong time, and I can completely turn his life inside out again.
Listen, I may not be in his league, but I’m a fucking barrel of monkeys, don’t underestimate what I bring to the damned party.
I may not bring a portfolio he admires, but I’ll be damned if he isn’t in the seat next to me, gangsta weaving to my Peanut Da Don, laughing at me because I’m rapping and throwing gang signs in between red lights. And, much to his embarrassment, at the red lights in full view of every fucking person under the sun.
You’re welcome.
If anyone deserves the fairy tale, it’s him. But, year after year, he’s still the token single of his friend group, his coworkers, his relatives, and his alma mater. He got a dog. A mastiff, I think. Around 7 foot tall. She’s perfect for him. He loves her like I love Puffin.
Honestly, I couldn’t begin to tell you how he hasn’t been roofied and taken in a burlap sack to the altar. I know that was strangely descriptive, but no, I haven’t been considering it since 2010. 2012, yeah, I admit it, once or twice, but we see I know what kind of federal time I would serve for that, and I don’t want him to have a wife in federal prison. He doesn’t have time to come teach life skills at visitation on the weekends.
However, I digress. Clearly.
Last night, I told him I had recorded some free verse, and to stop and check it out. Back in the day, I used to read it to him. When I wasn’t as good at it and I was much more emotionally hellfire. So, the message above is what I got a few minutes later.
He doesn’t appreciate the way some of these Fuckboys have treated me, and although he could dismantle an offensive line and have bitches folded like fucking lawn chairs in those days, you really don’t see that side of Huggie anymore. He is a gentle giant, like his dog. No need to do all that yapping. It won’t solve anything.
He always says just enough. Just a few lines to remind me that I am cared for by a man who could, quite literally, fold a Fuckboy like freshly pressed laundry and leave them tied neatly on their own doorstep for their baby mamma to find.
He’s just better than that, so he doesn’t. And that is what I try to be, every day. I try to be exactly that, except, ya know 5’2 and real fucking bitchy about it.
I try to be in his league, except not for the purpose of being in his league. It is to know that if I were ever on that level, I’m really fucking doing something with myself. I deserve a fucking tiara and a sash.
I’m just trying to be at least 3/8 of the woman he treats me like I am.
I’m just trying to look at myself and see a lady who is interesting and comical to Mr. Charming over there. I’m just trying to be a woman who, when people who know him see me, they just say, “ah. I understand”.
I haven’t had it all bad in matters of men who cared for me. There were a few really great guys in my life at one point or another. And the common thread? They all still do exactly like the message above. They never walked out on me. They never sat in judgment or bailed because I fucked up, or told me I wasn’t worth it to them.
They show up for my successes, and they help me gather the pieces after my fails. Just like the message above, with affection and a little humor, and I am so fucking thankful that I am a woman good enough to deserve them.
At one point or another, I was really a woman other women were envious of. Not for good reason, of course, I fucked up every single time I had a chance at happiness, but it was obvious by the amazing guy opening the car door for me that I had to be a force.
I was. And every time I get a message like this one, it reminds me that I damned sure still am.
Thank you for that. Just gonna mosey on over here and try to be something close to the broad you think I am.