Men and monsters

This blog is half my love life, half yelling at Dave, half yelling at the attorney general, and half trying to educate. That makes it two full blogs. Mathed the fuck out of that shit, motherfucker.

E is back, suddenly and without warning. I call him Turkish Dave. He is the alcoholic Turkish architect with a neck tattoo and a motorcycle. He appeared as if out of nowhere because he and his girlfriend broke up… again. I’m the chick he sees when they break up, but they always get back together because apparently this is a pattern in my life: men being assholes. I mean, for fuck’s sake, she moved out and bought a house once.

He’s the guy who takes me to concerts and sends me music videos, whose chest I kiss after sex. He’s that guy. I’m never enough for him. I know the game now. Took several rounds. I’m not going to answer the drunk text. Midnight is the witching hour with the drunks.

So why is it always the alcoholics? Well, that’s easy. Like Psych 101 shit right there. And I forgive them, and I take care of them, and they hurt me, and then they abandon me. So how do I stop repeating this pattern? Why do I always think that no matter how badly they treat me, next time will be better? Or that I won’t let it get to me this time?

That is the problem I need the solution to. There is always something violent underneath them. You can see it and feel it. They don’t even have to do anything. You just know. I don’t know if it’s the look in their eyes or just their presence or some kind of vibe, but you feel vaguely unsafe. Not unsafe enough to run, just enough to know.

Like, LawyerBoy is a goddamn saint, but he is a drinker and almost a foot taller than I am and cannot be moved. Trust me, I tried once. In play, not in any other way. But darkness hits sometimes. He doesn’t drink that much or that often because he has control of it. He knows he could go sideways at some point, and it could turn into too much, too often, too dark.

I don’t know. I don’t generally drink. I do with people, but never alone. I drank a lot with Dave. Vodka cran for the win every night. I don’t usually drink because I know how it changes people.

Dave and E are different. With them, it feels like the alcohol suppresses the restraint more than it changes who they are. It’s like something underneath starts showing through. I suppose it must be difficult spending the majority of your life pretending to be human when really you’re a monster.

So why do I always find myself with the monsters who hide and drink until they can’t control the monster anymore?

This is the question of my life. I remember in middle school I had a crush on this kid, and he was in the alternative class because he was so explosively violent. I had bad asthma and was in the nurse’s office all the time. They knew me well. One day the school nurse pulled me aside and gave me a lecture about boys and men like that. I needed to be very careful with people like that and stay away from them.

Clearly, I didn’t listen. I married as many as I could.

So why is that where I find comfort and love? Why do I forgive the unforgivable? Am I actually stupid?

That’s a possibility. Did I ever tell you the story about the soundproof room…