You might think that a man would choose a woman who would be similar in manner, if not physically to the partner that he'd had for the previous seven years, when they split up. Especially when you consider that the split up was not initiated by him, and when the new woman was a complete opposite in body-type to his previous fiancee. On the surface, my ex-fiance's new princess seemed a lot like me. But then, I didn't know her very well when she moved in to be my new roommate, just before our breakup.
She seemed very nice, and sweet and generous. And she had claimed to be as obsessive, compulsive about being clean and organized as I am. I freely admit that I have that problem, the need to keep my house clean and organized. I can't handle things being constantly destroyed and shoved everywhere and having piles of crap everywhere. It makes me go crazy. And to have a roommate with the same neuroses as myself seemed like a good solution.
It didn't turn out that way. Princess isn't at all clean, unless someone is there to pick up after her. Dishes in the sink, food on the counters. She wouldn't take out the garbage, and she wouldn't pick up anything, as far as I could tell, ever. I spent the entire time she lived in my apartment cleaning up after her, because she certainly refused to do it herself as soon as she understood that I simply couldn't tolerate the mess, and really was compulsive about it, and it would get done. The dishes would wash themselves, because I had to have it clean.
It showed how manipulative she could be, that she would simply continue to make the messes, knowing they would disappear. She simply couldn't be bothered to clean up after herself, and made no effort to do anything around the apartment. Laundry would pile up, and she would get angry when she realized that her child's clothes needed to be washed, because she was too lazy to go and check near her bed for dirty clothes. She never seemed to grasp that it was her responsibility as a parent to check for those things, it was always someone else's responsibility. That was a difference between us.
I'm in the habit of taking responsibility for myself, for the things that I do. I had no problem looking around the house, to pick up after my fiance was an irritant to me, but I did it. Because I didn't like the laundry piling up. I didn't like having to check my child's bedroom when she was small, to have to do her laundry, but I did that too. Because it was part of the responsibility of being a parent, to me.
I am loyal. I am unflinchingly, frighteningly loyal. My friends and my family know this. It turned out, once they moved out of my apartment, that loyalty is something that Princess wears or doesn't wear, like socks. Danny was my best friend, and she knew that, when she chose to pursue him, that while we had split up and were no longer in a "relationship", she knew that our friendship wasn't simply going to drift into the ether, and end. It was explained to her, in no uncertain terms, that he was a major part of my life, and just because he was going to be slipping his dick into her, didn't mean I was willing to lose my best friend.
Nobody prepared me for exactly what level of backstabbing, dishonesty Princess was capable of pulling. Because I am blunt, and honest, and I told her exactly how I felt, when she "asked" me if she could pursue him. Because I never dreamed that she would do the sorts of things she would then do over the course of the next year, and try to tear apart a thirteen year friendship.
In all the time we were together, when times got tough, and the money ran out, I put every single cent I had into our "mutual" money pot, to try and improve the state of our lives. Because it never occurred to me to be selfish enough to say "this is my money". I just dumped it all in. Being selfish isn't exactly in my personal makeup.
It would never have occurred to me to do anything else but take care of him, or anyone else I loved and cared about, when the chips were down, and they needed something. Not because I was keeping a running tally of what they might be able to do for me later, or what I could gain from it. And I have always, and will always want the best for my friends.
I'm not pampered. I'm not a "princess" In fact, when they moved out, the one little purple pillow I had that hung from my bedroom door originally that said "princess" on it? She took it with her, even though it belonged to me. Evidently conveniently forgetting that it wasn't actually hers. Perhaps in her mind, if it was something she liked, or was in her room for (x) amount of time, it then became hers, I don't know. And it wasn't worth arguing about.
But I know that I cooked for him, for years. And I cleaned up after him, and I took care of him. I was there when he was sick, and I was the one he came to anytime something was wrong. I was his best friend. And he was mine. I did his laundry, and I packed his suitcases when he had to go out of town. We had shared views and things we did together, because we had things in common. I stimulated his mind, and we were partners, more than just in bed. He called me, every morning when he woke up, and every night before he went to sleep when he traveled. And he couldn't wait to get back home. And honestly? I missed the hell out of him when he was gone, because he was my Danny.
And today would have been our eight year anniversary. And two weeks after our breakup, he threw it all away, to climb into bed with his new Princess, someone who is nothing like me, in any way. Except for what she seemed to be on the surface. Yeah, she has a great body. I'll admit that. I'm not much to look at. But in all the ways that it counted, in all the ways it mattered for a helpmate, and a friend, and a life partner? I'll never understand, because she's nothing like me.
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