So, kids, just when you thought this blog was turning into the ramblings of bumbling drunkenness and the rants of an (unfairly) single gal, I've got something serious for you. Your advice is appreciated--I do best with objective counsel.
Last eve, I got a new MySpace friend request. Unusual because I only have an account to visit other peoples' pages--I don't maintain mine AT ALL.
It was from a girl I knew a long time ago. But, probably not long enough, though. Anyway, ya'll should know, that I have an open heart when it comes to love, meaning I don't care a whit what's in your pants, as long as you're hot and buy me things.
Alright. As long as you're hot and a good person
. Geez. So, this fucking "friend request" was from the first girl I ever you know
with. I was 17, and she was crazy. And also 17. I'll call her X. I thought I loved her, then realized I didn't and X went crazier.
Then she told me she was dying of cancer. Now, in hindsight, of course, that was preposterous--she looked healthy, was still in school, etc. etc. etc. But, to a naive adolescent, it was completely plausible. So, I fell back in love with her, or probably fell into a big pile of fear about losing her. When you're 17, it's the same thing.
I told my parents. Not that X and I were making out, but that she was sick and dying. My parents were concerned because they are Good People who already had to pick X up in the middle of the night because her step dad beat her up. She did not have a stable home life, to say the least. (Sidenote: my parents were actually considering adopting X after that incident. Of course, they urged her to file police reports, but she didn't want to. End sidenote.)
My parents believed the story, too, I'm afraid. They were most concerned that her medical needs weren't being met in her crazy house and wanted to do anything they could to help.
Before they could offer their help, I talked to another friend of mine who had also fallen prey to X, who seemed to be running all over town awakening young girls to the pleasures of female flesh. This is another weird part of the story, kind of incestuous and gross, but, what's to be done now?
Anyway, I said to this girl, "I don't know what to do about X. I just can't believe she's going to die, etc. etc. etc."
Other Girl: "No she's not. She's lying. She tried that on me when I broke up with her, too."
(I can hear a lot of you who know me smacking your foreheads right now. "That's
why 123V is not so good at relationships." Exactly, kids. Makes it a little hard to trust folks after that.)
So, I am not proud to admit that I didn't immediately confront her. She spent the night at my house, with my parents doting on her, and we you know
. The next morning was horrific for so many reasons.
As I was driving X back home, I finally mustered up the courage? strength? cajones? and told her that it was over. Then I sped away from her. Very brave, 123V. Smooth.
When I returned home, my Dad was in the kitchen and simply said, "I heard you last night."
Ugh. Oh. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. Nononononononononononononononononononononono.
There was much drama. Especially when I told them that I just ended it because I found out that X lied about having cancer. Oh, my parents were livid. You can imagine. On the upside, they ultimately said they supported whomever I brought home, as long as they were not crazy or diabolical.
Still, shortly thereafter, I packed up and moved to Ohio with my Mom to finish out my high school career, away from X. She followed me, I'm afraid, but to Pennsylvania with her grandma. We still wrote and called, which signals just how royally fucked up I am.
When I left for college, we met up a couple of times, but I finally ended all contact for good when I was 19. I don't even remember why. It was anti-climactic.
Anyway, the point is X sent me a fucking MySpace friend request. There is so much wrong with this, that I don't even know where to start. A little therapy, some life experience and examples of non-fucked up relationships have taught me a lot along the way, but I can see she didn't get the lessons.
But, my dilemma, kids, is do I ignore it? Or do I send a "wish you well, but please don't contact me again" response. Of course, I am insanely curious, but letting her back in my life is not an option. She's already taken up too much of my day with this nonsense.
Also, her MySpace page? Ridiculous. The "About Me" section: "Trouble. I'm a mess ;)"
You can say that again.In the Comments section, give me your two cents.