18. I win (no quotation marks).

Until that moment, I never knew how painful two seemingly harmless (and typically positive) words could be. It had been twelve hours since I saw his face. The face of a man who I thought was in the same place as me, and yet, two words created a divide between us that seemed to have no end.

Of course, my mind began weighing out my options. If I asked him about the comment, he’d know that I was paying attention to his Facebook page (and posts on other pages). And to those of you who want to say you don’t do that…go kid someone else. You’re a damn liar. If I didn’t say anything, I would throw myself into a state of purgatory. There, I’d sit and wait (and wish)…all the while feeling pain. Which was worse? I wasn’t sure.

I knew the best approach was to give it a few days and see if his behavior changed. If it didn’t, maybe he’d won a prize. Maybe he’d won me. If his behavior changed, maybe his prize was being a commitment-dodging bastard. Either way, I’d know by the way he treated me in future conversations. Could I do it? I was unsure, but I was going to give every ounce of effort I could muster because of the rejection I was feeling.


Two days after I made the decision to avoid beginning conversations with James, I was invited out with two of my girlfriends. These girls and I worked together at the part-time gig I briefly mentioned (Ike stalked me there). We were going to have a ladies night. I needed it…in the worst way.

Several margaritas deep, I yearned to hear from James. Anxiety driven, the fact that he was ignoring my existence was resurfacing unresolved feelings for Ike. When things weren’t going the way I wanted them to, it made me begin believing I was the cause of the problem. Was I? No. But again, when you’ve survived an abuser, you always question yourself.

The girls could sense that I was not myself. The solution we all came to was to drink until we couldn’t walk. To make sure I didn’t do anything damaging, I surrendered my phone to Jenny and made her swear that she wouldn’t give it back under any circumstances.

After a night of heavy drinking, our sober driver dropped Jenny and I off at her house. My head hit the sofa hard and I was immediately asleep. I survived my first battle with heart-breaking, I-cant-stop-thinking-about-him/what-did-I-do-wrong feelings. Hallelujah.


The next morning I woke up to the sound of Jenny’s rug rats running through the living room. Rolling over, I saw Jenny sitting in the chair next to me.

Jenny: “I feel like death.”

Me: “Me too.”

Jenny: “Let me get the little one ready for a drive. We’ll get your car in a few.”

Phone in hand, Jenny returned five minutes later.

Jenny: “You’re phone was vibrating like crazy after we got back here. Thank God you were here and I had my phone, otherwise the husband would’ve thought I was out picking up dudes.”

Me: “Did you look and see who it was?”

Jenny: “You don’t have the number saved in your phone. The texts make it sound like someone who knows you.”


I threw up when I got home. Too much booze and too much play make Fina a very unhappy lady. After hugging the toilet for a few hours, I realized something. I was strong enough to allow myself to surrender to a feeling without acting on it. I knew the cause of my sadness. I doubted myself because of Ike; that doubt stemmed from feeling rejected by James.

Regardless, my stubborn piss-and-vinegar ass didn’t cave. I didn’t call Ike or James. I took preventative measures and made the most of my time out with the girls. Holy shit. I could do this.

From that moment on, I vowed that no matter what happened between James and I, I would always remember the first time (since Ike) that I took a stand against feeling like a victim. I was still hurting, I was still curious, and I was certainly still pissed-the-fuck-off, but I survived.

A surge of dignity and self-worth shot through my body with the speed and power of cyanide. I was frozen in that moment for what seemed like an eternity. I was going to be alright. And, no matter what happened, I’d come out of this winning. If James thought he won a prize because he got a weekend ‘ass’ pass, well, he was a pathetic dick monger-er who didn’t know what was standing in front of him (like that? I’m a classy broad sometimes).

I stopped puking shortly thereafter and, after another round of showering, grabbed my phone. My goal? To figure out who had been blowing it up the previous evening.


4 thoughts on “18. I win (no quotation marks).

  1. This reminds me of my current situation….sitting…waiting by the phone…wondering is he gonna call??…

    but i vowed not to contact him first….so i feel ya!

    • Ugh! Girl I’m so sorry you’re going through that. I know how sucky it is to want something that just isn’t happening. Want to know my secret? I make my schedule so full that I can’t possibly sit around and think about it anymore. It makes the time go by fast. Eventually, I get to the point where I don’t care that the d-bag hasn’t called.

      Keep me updated on what happens! I promise to do the same for you. 😉

  2. lol @ d bag……and i actually had a convo with him recently when he took me to the emergency room(long story) lol….and he apologized for not calling as much as he should and promised to do better…soooo fingers crossed…*shrugs*

    wait…is this where i was supposed to keep u updated at?? lol

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