Dear Ghetto Genius,
I'm going to get straight to the point. I'm dating a guy who tells me he wants to spend his life with me, loves me and I'm the best thing to happen to him but constantly starts these horrendous fights with me about practically nothing. He's been working nights and I see him in the morning. He's never really wanted to go a day without seeing me so I make time for him. One day he says he's too tired, I go by his house just to grab my PlayStation and there is another car parked there. No one answered the door. He later wrote me and told me he had some friends from work pick him up to go out for drinks and the other dude left his car and they went in the other guys. Okay I can maybe buy that. But then as of lately he's been online when he's supposed to be asleep and acting strange. Like getting mad about nothing and taking to the extreme of almost breaking up but telling me I need to try to make things work when they get bad. Now today he tells me he's going to a meeting after asking me over and I went by his job because I'm suspicious ASF seeing as though we just had a major fight the day before. His truck isn't there and he tells me it's parked at a different store. Okay maybe I can believe that but then he's back online again shit it says he was online when I was there. Am I fucking crazy or is he gaslighting the fuck out of me? I love him and I want to believe him but I feel stupid ASF.
Thank you for any advice,
Cher
Dear Cher,
Before I begin to unravel the ponderance you are pondering, I need to address something.
I am having a hard time answering your tale of woe seriously because you used the word 'prolly' in the subject line of the email you sent to GG headquarters and I had such a visceral reaction to seeing it I couldn't read your email for a few days. I get lazy text speak, the ur and r u, and all that other monkey mouth bullshit that passes as a form of communication these days, but the word 'prolly' is just a fucking bastardization of the English language (which is already dumb as hell sometimes) and I have to question so many things about any person using that word, because what the fuck. Like what the fuck do you do with all that time you have saved by making an 8 letter word 6 letters instead?! Are you working on your PhD thesis and need every precious moment before you defend it to your professors? I mean, I doubt it since you are spending most of your free time being super-stalky, but for reals. What is the fucking point of that word. It is almost as useless as me spending hours walking through the MGM Grand in Vegas last year, looking for J-Wundercunt, when he was 10 hours late meeting me at the hotel. Oh, wait, I found his degenerate ass at some table, because I can sniff that motherfucker out and I have the cognitive skills of someone who doesn't use words like 'prolly' in daily conversations.
Jesus H. Christ, I have spent the last year going to therapy, trying to be a kinder, gentler, middle-aged bog witch, instead of the absolute cunt of disaster I was for most of my 30's and in like 5 seconds you undid that shit with the most asinine subject like I have seen in the 10 years I have been doing this dumpster fire of a blog, with my favorite fucking snatch-slapper, J-Wun and done. I did the math, and since I am going to have to go back to therapy or bleach my eyes because of your fuckery, Imma need you to slide me about 5 G's to start this process again. And I am still gonna give you the good shit, FOR FREE. Ok, I will make you a deal. If you promise to never use that word again, I will not go completely chupacabra on your ass and try to help you out of this clown shoes ass situation.
There is one way you can redeem yourself, and for once it is not with cooter & tiddy photos, but please tell me you are an early to mid-twenty something and your parents named you after Cher Horowitz, from the iconic 90's rom-com, Clueless. Also, you aren't stupid AF, but you seem kind of clueless. See what I did there? Bing bong!
As I mentioned before, I have been in the therapies for some time and I know a thing or two about being gaslit, and that ain't it, boo. I spent the better part of the 10 years I have been putting key to board on this blog preaching that men are simple creatures, most of them not in possession of the gray matter necessary to properly gaslight someone. That kind of Hannibel Lecter shit takes a couple of things: sociopathic tendencies, a narcissistic mentality, and simply the fucking smarts, to be able to play mental chess with someone. And y'all are playing checkers, but with only like half the pieces. King me, motherfucker.
I am going to say some very simple words to you, and for fuck's sake (it's possessive, because the sake belongs to the fuck, don't come for me, people) heed my words, possible child: If he wanted to, he would.
You are PROBABLY scratching your head and wondering what in the angry beaver fuck is going on and I will try to break it down further. IF HE WANTED TO, HE WOULD. And you know how I know this? I am only this wise because of my experiences, some hard liquor, maybe a few recreational substances, but also because I have lived this shit. Like until recently. So do me a favor and walk with me, child.
Several years ago, I wrote some columns about this dude I was dating. We will call him the Silver Fox Fuckboy, because that is literally what I call him in all the columns. Hell, that was even his name in my phone for some time. But hear me out bc there actually is a point to this story. We were on and off for about 5 years. In those 5 years, we were everything and nothing to each other at different times. We told each other we loved each other, we met each other's parents, we were ride or dies. I thought maybe, just maybe, he was the one. Mostly because I let him do butt stuff to me, but that is the kind of thing you do when you are in luuuuuurrrve. However, time and time again, when shit seemed to be going great, the fights would start. The evasiveness. The shitty comments. And then finally, we would break up. But the brown eye wants what the brown eye wants, and I would eventually find my way back to him. FOR FIVE FUCKING YEARS.
Recently, we kind of rekindled things, but in a FWB way, not in a relationship-y way, mostly because dude lives less than a mile away from me and I liked to get dicked down. No shame in my game. This goes on for a little while, and then he posts something cryptic on twitter, and of course I had to respond because I knew exactly what the fuck he meant. And what it meant was that he was seeing someone; someone who was not me. Well shit.
Here is why this is all significant, my little push-pop: in the few months he has been seeing this new person, I have seen him do a lot of the things that I would have given my left tit for him to do when we were together. Ok, that was dramatic, even for me, because I have fantastic tits and I would never do anything like that. I am sure I have you all sorts of mind-fucked now, because how would I know that he is doing the things for her he never really did with me? Because right before you undid all of the majestical healing I had undergone, I decided to try to be a more mature and rational person and stay friends with him. TBH, and this is some real shit, we make great friends. The SFFB drove me to and from Orlando last month (about 5 hours RT, each way) so I didn't have to drive myself to the airport when I was going to Iceland and had some crazy flights to and from there (for the record, I hate driving and I am a goddamn menace behind the wheel, so this was also a public safety thing.) When I have a shit day and need a wine buddy, this motherfucker always has a fresh box cracked. And that is also not a joke, dude loves his boxed wine. We live close to the ocean and sometimes we go for walks after work. Or he talks shit to me during March Madness, when my beloved Blue Devils lose and I want to cry and hit things. Basically, we took sex out of the equation and remembered why we hit it off in the first place, and I met his new lady friend and she is really lovely. That is not laced with sarcasm, either. She's a baddie. See, look at how mature I've become and shit.
The moral of that long ass story was something I said in the beginning. IF HE WANTED TO, HE WOULD. And now this next part is going to be about as awkward as Joe Exotic waiting for his pardon when the former President was leaving office... that he never got.
Your guy isn't gaslighting you. He is just doing what he wants, because he can. You can either muster up some self-respect, and grab your playstation one final time, and moonwalk the fuck out of his life, or you can continue to pine for him the way Joe Exotic was pining for that pardon. Fuck it, maybe go Carole Baskin and start unaliving people if your heart is really that broken. Bitches be crazy sometimes, and well, that's just motherfucking life if you're into that sort of shit.
Oh, and the 'online' shit. GIRL STOP. All my socials say I am online all the time, even when I am sleeping or doing blow in sketchy bathrooms with people I just met. I have turned that notification off, and it still is trying to incriminate me. Do better, say less. Seriously, don't let people know you are stalking his online presence. It's giving me eau de desperation and that shit reeks. Also, stop doing drive bys - that fatal attraction shit is weak sauce, and even if you use the dumbest word in the history of words, I know you aren't that much of a dumb bitch. So stop acting like it. Even GG would be telling you the same shit I'm preaching. Why? Bc we think alike and know situations like this all too fucking well.
May your vagina have mercy on his soul and never cross that bridge ever again...well, unless you're into real fucked up mind games and like to play the victim.
Godspeed Soul Sister,
H-Bomb
