Written by ELLA
I kicked out my [ex] boyfriend and picked up a second job. I’m proud of my devotion to my work but can’t shake feeling like an absolute fool… But love is what love is.
What kind of man would try to insult you & say “you can’t keep a man,” to avoid discussing the fact that he lied about having 5 children (one of which isn’t his, one of which he found out isn’t his)? A man who is worthless as his word. The kind of man I would rather kill than keep. I can control my actions, but I can’t deny saying that his daughters would grow up to be whores like their mother… But when you find text message conversations of a man being excited that his “wife is getting slutted out” you have second thoughts about relationships and the things a person is allowed to expect from you.
He had asked me to do things that I’m grateful I never got around to. The scariest thing about a relationship is the things you’re willing to do in private, because you trust a person — only to find out they aren’t worth spit on the street. I don’t “hate men” because of his betrayal; I hate liars, cheats and self-serving people who’ve taken advantage of my kindness. This applies to all of you.
I haven’t had many “good” friends. I’ve had friends who thought they’ve owned me. My best friend in the 6th grade stole my diaries when I got a new friend… Only after I got tired of inviting her boring ass new my friend over my house. I lost my longest friends because I couldn’t be real anymore. I can’t hang out with a female who might fuck my man. I also can’t hang out with someone who could chill with me AND the person fucking my man. I’ve gotten friends salaried jobs they could have never [ever] gotten for themselves and listened to conversations about mediocre shit she found impressive but could barley cough up grocery or gas money. I’ve been disgusted about perfect girlfriends who spend nights talking to their exes on the phone, exchanging numbers with men she knows aren’t “friends”. I’ve cut off guy friends who got shady because I didn’t want to be more than friends. I’ve ended relationships with men who decided to go “back” to the girlfriend they never mentioned and I realized there’s nothing beneficial in chasing a boy with a masters degree but still sleeps in a bunk bed in his parent’s government funded apartament. I’ve ended my relationships with people for countless reasons but it can be summed up like this: no one has done for me the things I was willing to do for them. Perhaps my point of view is skewed, but at least I have one. At least I’m strong enough to act.
The corporate world is dog eat dog & retail is no better. Half my day, I have to manage power struggles with people who are [sometimes] too good to do their jobs. The other half of my day, I spend managing people’s emotions while they compare themselves to me, don’t feel “good enough” and talk about me in Spanish because they’re tough until they whisper “ella, ella” but when I ask if they have something to say to me they say, “No, why?”. All day I just try to be me and understand that people treat me like shit not because I deserve it, but because they aren’t capable of anything better. It’s no one’s fault. Maybe my God is testing me, or maybe it’s yours.
“Strong girl,” she said. My co-worker is one of the sweetest girls I know. She’s a hard worker, honest, even tempered and has a great smile. Almost a month after my break up, I told her Lawrence and I are no more. “Are you ok?” She asked… And I wanted to show her my bank account and say, “Dandy”. I always feel cold-hearted when I get over the evil things people do to me, but I’m proud that I can cut off those relationships cleanly. I don’t owe anybody anything except Sallie Mae. I even stopped talking to my sister because she got ahead of herself and must have forgotten who the fuck I am.
Some people don’t deserve to be in our lives. Some things aren’t worth doing. Anything that causes stress, you should rid yourself of – as soon as possible. I used to think that, to be a “good” person, you had to deal with all the bullshit people put you through, but that’s the real bullshit. You should be able to expect from people exactly what they expect from you, no matter who they are.
That is equality. That is true freedom. That is your right.
I suppose it’s evil that I’ve simply invested myself in my job… “All you care about is your career,” Lawrence would say. I’m not sure if it was because I found out he made $20,000 less than he said he did… Or when he found out I only make $5,000 less than he does… But I do know that he left his children and moved in with me and couldn’t afford to pay rent… And it was pulling teeth to get groceries… But the rent was paid and the fridge was stocked. Imagine if I didn’t focus on my career? Then I’d be like his wife: no ring, 5 kids and getting “slutted out” on an air mattress in my grandmother’s house with out $10 to my name. But… I’m me, so I told him to take what he could and get out by 8am; I had everything except what I bought him ready in trash bags that weekend.
But… what do I know? I just go to work and pay rent. I don’t know anything except for when the rent is due & what ConEdison charges me.
If you’re lucky, success will cost you everything you have. You’ll lose friends and you’ll lose sleep. You’ll realize how few people actually support/believe in you. People will be there for you when it benefits them but don’t expect them to stay around. That’s why famous people have managers and stylists and PR people: if you want people to look out for you, you’ve got to put them on the payroll. Even then, it’s only a matter of time until they get greedy and ask for more than they deserve.
I’m not lonely, I’m a loner. I don’t go out or party. But I’ve been able to send my mom some money & that makes me feel complete. If your lucky, success will cost you everything expect that which is worth keeping. I anticipate having more to pay… You know, “the cost to be the boss”, so I’m working my associates to afford it & willing to give up all the shit I can spare. Being successful always has a cost. Make use of your time.
Now… Back to this money.