I have been obsessed with the holder of my ex's "best boobs I've ever seen™" ever since I found that out. So, let's see... that'll be about 10 years now. Funnily enough, the holder of "best blow-job ever™" never took my fancy after I got continual thrush for the next year of my life after he had dated her six months before me. Men are carriers of thrush, and get it from women, and they don't know about it because they never suffer any symptoms. She was also a dirty slozzer, which I learned from the fact she used him to get to Australia, then immediately started dating a drugged up, unclean drug trafficker who lived in an ex brothel.
Luckily, back when that title had been earned, my ex was only 20 so I think it's safe to say perhaps that that title no longer belongs to her. Alas, it'd be great to be known as being the best "something" my exes have ever had. Even if it is just the best dish-washer would do.

Back to the "best boobs" winner. Unfortunately, this obsession wasn't just borne out of the fact that I wish I had something memorable to leave with my exes, aside from severe pre-menstrual depression, and the paranoia spawned from my serious two exes talking about things they could never have talked about in front of me, with numerous exes and other females. Instead, this obsession was borne out of the fact that the girl had never even met me, although we are of the same circle of friends, yet she disliked me immensely. She continually put me down to him, in text messages and on chat. But I saw her as absolutely perfect, so I wanted to be more like her. Except in the sense of her reckoning that by 18, she had slept with 24 males and females. She wrote about it on LiveJournal (but apparently I was a liar when I told my ex).

The fact she disrespected me so much, and the fact that my ex apparently didn't respect me enough either, to not talk about our business with her when she never liked me to start with, is the very reasoning I became obsessed with her. I've spent my life actively hated by a lot of people - and it seemed to me that through her online conversations with my ex I would learn why. The only thing I really learned from this girl was that she thought she was the hottest thing since the sun. She was so falsely sure of herself, that she thought every man and woman wanted her. She reminds me of Maureen in RENT. So high on her own looks and "talents" and friendships, that she thinks she can do anything she wants.

Ever since puberty, everybody stares at me... Boys, girls, I can't help it, bayyyyybeee.

When I first started dating my ex, she told one of my good friends, who was also her good friend, that he treated her like hell, and cheated on her, abused her, etc. In reality, she was dating some pretty-boy goth (she and I are also. But I'm less so inclined because I don't sleep with all my friends, like most do, in my experience.) who wore high heels and what-not. But at the same time, she was having a lot on the side with my ex. My ex was devoted to her. On LJ, I found out that he had been the one to end it because she could not choose, but it was amicable. And thus, they remained friends.

When I began dating my ex, things seemed perfect. Until the night we had organised something for our workplace at our favourite Mexican restaurant. My ex couldn't come, as we had a pathetic stoner who missed his shift and the presenteeism that flows through my ex's blood made him stay and cover his shift. Anyway, I ended up really pissed, and we all took our time getting back to the workplace to meet up with him. Fishbowl margaritas do not help with making people walk fast. Time slows down, seemingly, when I'm drunk. And I was /very/ drunk. Anyway, that night he ignored me and his friends who had been with me, whom he lived with. When he finally got cooerced into bed to sleep, I ended up waking up thirty minutes later again and going and sleeping on the futon in the living room. I got bored, and sat at his machine. That's where I found a conversation on screen that he was having with another ex. And that's where my jealous obsession began. Because after that, I found that he wanted every woman he knew except for me. I guess we made good friends, though, because after my motorcycle accident just after we broke up five years after this incident, I remained living with him for the next 5 years, with only a six month stint of living elsewhere.

He was never at fault, though. Of course not. It was my fault for looking through his chats. If he didn't act so guilty by deleting things continually, I wouldn't have had to look. But he never saw what he was saying to girls he knew as being wrong. In my opinion, it is the first steps to cheating. And when he would talk about our problems with these disrespectful females, that was the straw that broke the camels back. How dare he talk about our problems or "my" problems with these girls who didn't care that he was taken, and who were sending him photos and words that they shouldn't be sending a taken man? That is the ultimate disrespect. Cheating is one thing. Talking about things that aren't their business is another. I'm not saying he was cheating, exactly. But he was definitely disrespectful of me.

Anyway, it's difficult to put my obsessions with his ex into words, but since he and her had a continuing friendship where she'd send him half naked pics, and what-not, it made it difficult for me to forget. We broke up in the end because after all the pictures I had seen that he had been sent, everything he'd said about these girls to his friends on chat, and the things he'd implied about me (annoying, would be one of them) all the words he had had with other girls that he shouldn't have been having - maybe if they were girls in a different country I could write it off as porn. But quite simply, he knew these girls and had access to them. So regardless of his justification that it was "just like porn", it was not. Anyway, after all the things I'd seen, I couldn't forget. I tried hard for so long. Then I'd find he'd done something again. After a year together, he started deleting his chat logs etc. He always kept me from seeing his phone and using his computer, but he didn't know how stealthy and how much I really knew about computers. We've both always been in the computer game - he's being paid top bucks for what he does in the field, and he most definitely doesn't get paid enough for how good he is. But I'm pretty good at finding out things when I want to, and leaving no tracks. I would find out passwords and information like I was Veronica Mars. If only I were as hot and smart as her. Anyway, I was so good at what I did. I have a pretty poor memory for numbers and details - but when it comes to knowing I'll need access to something in future, my memory is clear and sharp.

Me, as Veronica Mars, if I were hot and smarter.

I learn by doing / fiddling around with things, and by the gods I was the fastest learner in the world when it came to this stuff. It seemed like I was addicted to the stabbing pain that flooded through me whenever I found some detail that normally people would break up with a person for. But I didn't. I instead used that information to better myself. But nothing ever worked. He still did it. So, it would all come out in fights. We'd fight about how to wash up properly (he would always fight with me over how I did things), and the fight would always end up being a serious one about these conversations. No matter how I changed myself, I was still not good enough. Not for him, and not for anyone else. Especially not miss perfect boobs 2001. I thought at first I wanted dark brown hair because I loved the look of it on women like Eliza Dushku and Angelina Jolie. But now, I do wonder if it was my obsession with her that made me do it. I did in fact cut my hair to look more like her. And my goth did increase similarly. But, I have always been that on the inside - and the way I dress is mine entirely. But, she is beautiful and loved by people. I, on the otherhand, am not anything but "cute" and I have a difficult time with people. I am a loyal, helpful, caring, goes-out-of-her-way friend, but I'm only ever disappointed by others - and made to suffer by humiliation. My caring is always a liability of mine - people use it against me.

I met her officially one day, and she pretended to be nice to me - but all she did after that was bitch about me. He joked about a threesome with me and her to her... she said I wasn't her type. The slut with all those people under her belt said /I/ wasn't her type. She continued to undermine me in conversations with him. It never stopped, and he has never, ever defended me in front of anyone. I've been hated by his friends, my friends, my coworkers, my bosses, my uni colleagues, his family... but not once has he stood up for me.

So tell me, why do I still love him and see him as the One 5 years after we broke up? Because he might be a shitty boyfriend, but he is actually a fantastic friend. For a hundred different reasons I could tell you he is the best human being on planet Earth. He is generous, kind, caring, clean, hygienic, hard-working (too hard-working though), funny, fun... he is my best friend. Although, I don't think he sees me as the same. When I look at him, I see what he sees and I can't help but understand why I am an undesirable girlfriend and it confirms my belief that I will always be alone. Now I find out, my parents also believe I will be alone.

My god, I could type here all day about everything that happened and everything I felt and did - but I won't.

Anyway, I remain obsesed with this girl. Now that I live back in Hobes where she originated, and away from my ex, I'm still obsessed with her. I check her Ebay feedback for what she has purchased once a month, and whenever I see her picture my self-loathing is brought to the surface - but in a different way than it is when I'm suffering PMD. To be her: to have her popularity, her looks, her ability to attract men and have them WANTING to marry her (she has been proposed to several times to my nil. She is several years younger than me.).. she has so many things that I do not. Friends, love, the best boobs, fuels the fantasies of a lot of male friends I know... my gods. They treat her as the Holy Grail. I want to have what she has. Sans the mother who died of a brain tumour, and a father who gave up on living soberly when she died, of course. Obviously those two things would have been very difficult on her. But I've lived a lot of difficulty too - yet I've never had anything easy. The rest of her life after these horrible events have been rather easy. I'm glad that that is the case for her, of course.

I just wish I could have some of that success in life myself after all the pain I've been through, too.

At 30, I don't think I've grown up in my mind since I met my ex. Otherwise, I wouldn't still be jealous of his favourite ex who he only broke up with because of her not breaking up with her other man.

Labels: Angelina Jolie, best boobs, best friend, chat logs, cheating, Eliza Dushku, ex, ex girlfriend, fishbowl margaritas, goth, hobart, LiveJournal, Maureen, presenteeism, Rent, slozzer, slut, tacos, thrush, veronica mars