The Name That Shall Never Be Mentioned…. The Weenie.

I haven’t ever talked much about the ex-fiancée. I’m an Aquarius and once we are done with someone, really done, we walk away with no regrets. Most people don’t believe in horoscopes but mine is so damned accurate that I believe it. 

Tim. I’ll say his name once during this post but that’s all he deserves. He is a man that I uprooted my entire life for, sold my belongings, left my home and friends behind for. He wasn’t worth it.

This man I agreed to marry and uproot my life for, trusted, thought I knew through a long-distance relationship for such a long time wasn’t a monster, or horrible, or a narcissist. He was a weenie.

He also lied about who he was. Just that. A weenie. 

I am a BIG personality. When I walk into a room you know I’m there. I’ll likely know lots of people, giving hugs, laughing and dancing. I am also a strong personality. I don’t consider my inability to tolerate bullshit or anything hurtful toward me or toward others a weakness. I consider it a gift. I am kind, but if you lie to me or talk down to me I will tell you to “Fuck Off” and not feel bad about it. I’m the friend who tells you your ass looks huge in that skirt and to change. I am brutally honest. I bite my tongue with loved ones often because I have to find a filter so I don’t inadvertently hurt their feelings with my honesty. I expect people not to lie to me. I don’t think that’s a lot to ask of a human being that you’ve agreed to marry and move 1700 miles to Michigan for. 

I moved to Michigan knowing only him and his parents and where I was going to work in Detroit. I’m brave for that. I know this now. I had contacts in the area that were lifesaving that I talked about here Online Friends vs. RL Friends

When you’re in a long distance relationship and only see each other a weekend a month it’s easy to play a game and pretend, for 48-72 hours at a time that you have the same personality and interests as the person you’re with. I’m not talking about me, folks. I’m as transparent as they come. I will TELL you where I want to eat, goddammit! I Don’t Care is not a chain restaurant. I will tell you if I don’t like crowds, if I hate car shows (I don’t, but I lived in the Motor City so they were everywhere). I will tell you I don’t like Coney restaurants and I think that coney dogs are gross (true story). My Michigan friends know this and I know they may not like Chicken Fried Steak or grits. It’s OK. If they don’t like Whataburger though? Get out of my life. I don’t need that kind of negativity.

He pretended to be my kindred spirit and wasted a year of my life. He bought me the most beautiful engagement ring I’d ever seen. We went to concerts and museums and saw art and listened to old school hip hop. We went to dinner with his family which he never did before. His mom loved that I’d reconnected their family. I moved into a beautiful condo with him and we bought me a new car together (that the lease is up on in two more payments! 🙌🏻) Life was great on the weekends and for the first six weeks of our cohabitation. Then the real him started to grate on my nerves and the lies started to surface. I didn’t snoop or pry, he just wasn’t a good liar. They popped up every day and I’d call him on things that he said he loved but didn’t. We’d fight, he’d get defensive. He’d hang the “you live under my roof now” guilt trip over my head making me feel like he could kick me to the curb. The fuck you think you’re talking to, little man? (He was shorter than me. I’m 5’9″. I hate that!)That was laughable because in all honesty I’ve always had a job that pays me ridiculously well with an MBA and BS. I’m educated. I found a job in Downtown Detroit (which is beautiful, by the way) in two weeks once I arrived. I had savings and the ability to take care of myself. “Fuck your condo!” I said. “Threaten the roof over my head one more time and I will leave you. I will not have a life of worry for myself and my children here!” 

He started crying afterward. That shouldn’t have made me disgusted with him but it did. Everything about him disgusted me by the third month. Here is a list of things that bothered me that make me sound shallow but I don’t care:

1. He had no friends. None. Just his parents. I don’t trust anyone without a single friend in the world. That should’ve been a red flag but he wanted me “all to himself”

2. He lied about being social. The truth is he was a hermit and a creature of habit to an insane level. I could time his behavior minute by minute. Alarm, no snooze, brush teeth, splash face, open shower, start shower, conserve water with a precisely four minute shower, towel off, put on underwear, walk to dresser, pull out jorts (seriously. Jorts?) go to closet, put on tshirt, leave bedroom, open fridge, grab Coke Zero, grab lunch, open door, hit garage opener, start car, close garage. RELIEF. He’s gone. This started at 3:06am daily and ended at 3:36am precisely. He stopped at the same 7-11 for the same newspaper, took the same route to work and home every day. At night, although he had cable, he watched the same shows. He went to bed at precisely 8pm and expected me there with him. I could time his behaviors by the clock. It was nerve racking and weird. 

3. He was a picky eater. I get it, but it just tied in with his being a hermit and having habits and refusing to try new things.

4. He hated music. He lied and said he loved it. Music and reading are two things I have to have in my life. The written and musical word touches my soul. He listened to talk radio to and from work on an AM station. You seriously don’t really know who Biggie Smalls is? Or Tupac? Come ON!

5. He had cats. I’m not a cat person and I’m allergic. I never asked for him to do anything differently other than realize I couldn’t have them on my lap or in the bed or my eyes would be fused shut even after allergy medication. He treated his cats like babies. They weighed over 20 pounds each. They were dangerously obese and he fed them from the table constantly. He wanted me to hold them and love them and kiss them and I couldn’t. Nope.

6. He wore jorts. Jorts are “jean shorts”. They were cool in the 90’s. That’s all I’m going to say about that. Get out of your bubble. I took him to buy cargo shorts. It was embarrassing.

7. Sex with him was non existent after I moved in. Before, it was substandard. He had “problems” and would say he was nervous every time. After I moved in he was unable to function sexually. I never embarrassed him about it, but guys, for the record, it makes a woman feel like it’s her fault. He’d roll over and go to sleep and ignore the problem. I am a very sexual person. It’s important to me to have that connection and affection. After an argument one night he told me he wasn’t attracted to me and it was my fault. Another “Fuck you!” came out of that one. He covered up his problem on our weekends together very well.

8. He was Catholic. I didn’t think that was an issue. I’m Methodist but was willing to learn. I observed Lent with him. He told me one night that we could never be together in eternity anyway because we were both divorced and he was going to hell. I laughed hysterically. He was dead fucking serious.

9. He failed to tell me when I moved in that his 25 year old loser son was moving into our basement. I bonded with his daughter but his son was just a miserable person. We could not stand each other. I couldn’t walk through my own kitchen in a robe without him being there. 

10. He worked out in his underwear. I am totally serious. On the treadmill in our house watching TV, with his sweaty balls slinging around. He couldn’t understand why that grossed me out.

The straw that broke the camel’s back came right before 4th of July weekend. We were installing a new mirror in the master bathroom so in taking the old mirror down I realized it was a medicine cabinet. I opened it up and found pills. I’m a nurse so I was able to identify a couple of things:

1. He had new prescriptions for lots of controlled substances

2. He had three different prescriptions, one dating back to 2013 for Cialis and Viagra

Our biggest issue had been in the bedroom and the fact that he couldn’t have actual sex with me. He had told me it was my fault. He didn’t even meet me until early 2014. He had a prescription for Viagra from 2013. This was a problem that was his alone. I was less upset about the OxyContin and Xanax and was FURIOUS about the lie about his erectile dysfunction.

I knew exactly what time he would be home from the plant and waited, growing more angry by the second. I lined all the bottles up on the counter which would be the first thing he would see.

I’m not a horrible person. I wanted to talk about the problems. Was he injured or did he have chronic pain? If he had ED why didn’t we just talk about it? 

I sat down on the couch and waited. I heard the car, the garage open, he came in the door with the flowers he bought me every day and saw the bottles. He became enraged. He yelled “Why did you go through my personal things?!?! This is MY house. I can put you on the streets!” That was it. I’d told him once before to never put me in that situation again and here it was. I was dealing with an addict and a liar. His behaviors of addiction became crystal clear to me. That’s why the friends were gone. That’s why he had two divorces under his belt. That was why he was tired all the time and that was why he couldn’t get it up.

He left in anger, I packed up my car with six boxes and went to a hotel for the night. The next day I headed to Canada (an hour away) and spent the weekend with Danielle and her family. 

That was it. I came back, went to a beautiful apartment complex, secured a lovely, gigantic place for myself in a state where I barely knew anyone and my friends that I’d already made helped me move in. I am incredibly brave. I could’ve run home to Texas, but instead I stayed another year plus and learned about the city that is Detroit. It healed me. The people there embraced the tall, Southern girl with open arms! 

He frantically texted for two months. The sorrys came too late. I had to message him about my car so I could switch the lease. Once that was finished I’ve never spoken to him again.

This story is seriously about the repurcussions of not telling the truth and a weenie.

How hilarious is that?!?

-THAT Crazy Girl 


6 thoughts on “The Name That Shall Never Be Mentioned…. The Weenie.

  1. Wow, what a story… I am sorry you experienced such lies from this person… Sometimes it is hard to believe how many people there are out there who lie about the big stuff in a relationship… It was good that you saw the truth relatively quickly, anyway. Thanks for sharing this, it made me smile, cause there was a lot of humor to it, (even if it was very tragic also)… Hugs 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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