So not worth it, especially over a guy, I didn’t even like.

So not worth it, especially over a guy, I didn’t even like. Ugh, but I hated the rejection. I hated “to lose.” Like, you are saying no to me but I didn’t even want you in the first place? Oh, hell no. In retrospect, that was a good play. Because I wasn’t even thinking about you until you tried to let ME down easy. Yes, one night stand, fine. You were not the first. And, I was already moving on to someone else, but then, you came at me saying that we should part ways. When were our “ways” ever together? Regardless, you got into my head and my mind was weak back then. So, why am I writing about this now? Because I fucking lost and I hate losing.

Do you know how some people like to play Monopoly and win? That was me and I was cut-throat. Like, make your little-sisters-cry cut-throat. True story. I told them that they lost their money so they were out. They wanted a loan from the bank to stay in and I was like, “Nah, the real world doesn’t work like that. Sorry.” So yeah, I was the big bitch in the Monopoly board game, but couldn’t realize that someone else had bought hotels on the Broadway and Park Place of my life.

So, how did I react? Step 1: Find other random-ass guy. Step 2: Fuck him. Step 3: Three houses on Mediterranean Avenue and Baltic Avenue. Bam, motherfucker! How do you like them hotels? So, you roll the dice and hope you bypass their shit, land on GO and collect your $200. Unfortunately, I sucked at real-life Monopoly. I wanted to be the person that could make others cry, but, sadly, I was the one at home crying because I didn’t know the rules. My solution was to just find someone else new because maybe if I slept with enough people I could forget that I was bleeding out the play money.

Okay, enough Monopoly metaphors. You knew I didn’t like you. But you had to trick me because you knew that was the only way. And I was weak because any attention was better than none. Because you could tell that my little overweight disproportionate body was happy for any kind of semblance of romance. Yes, tell me you were jealous. Say you thought about buying something for me for my birthday. Why? Because no one else had ever said that. Bravo. Well done.

Fine, I see your jealousy e-mail, and I raise you: I fucked this other guy. Do you fold? Okay, no more game metaphors, I promise. So, how did this end? I threw your shit away in the trash can, even though I hate throwing away perfectly good things. I remember how you called me a “six” to my face and reminded me that your real girlfriend was a “ten.” And eight months later, I took my six ass back to Texas and learned these lessons from you: harden your heart, never hope and always be the first to walk away. So, thank you. Something good did come from this after all.