My mind's been busy these past few weeks. My life really isn't very eventful so it's crazy how much other people's shit seems to consume my brain.
I believe it was this Monday or Tuesday when Deev asked me to find the Facebook page of Chris, the guy she's been sort-of-dating for the past two months. Apparently, he's always on it but for some reason, she had been having trouble finding him and I am usually pretty good at the cyber-stalking thing so she enlisted my help. I spent the last 30 minutes at work on my phone trying to find information on this guy using the first and last name she gave me. I narrowed the search by location, and tried to find family members with his last name, in case he didn't use his real name on Facebook. Perhaps, a family member would have him on his friend list. But Facebook proved to be practically useless. Because of how hard it was to find him, I told Deev that his real name must not be Chris. She agreed with me. Although, I think we were both half-joking at the time.
She gave me his Instagram, which he only had one photo posted. It was a photo of him and another woman. No caption, I believe. The woman looked a little older, so I thought that maybe she was an aunt or another matronly figure of his. But I looked through the Instagram pages of the four people that liked the page and stumbled upon someone's Instagram with a picture of that same woman and Chris in his feed. In the caption, the person referred to Chris as Dathan. When I found this, I was in my car, ready to leave work to go home. I didn't really read the caption. I just noticed the name "Dathan" all over the caption, screenshotted the picture, and sent it to Deev, asking if the guy in the picture was Chris, and if so, why was he going by the name Dathan.
She actually read the caption and realized that the person who owned the Instagram was Chris's father-in-law and the woman he was with was his wife. I was dumbfounded. I didn't want to be sitting in the parking lot outside of my workplace to decipher this information so I immediately rushed home and we proceeded with more research on this guy. We found out a few more details on this guy but ultimately, the groundbreaking part of all of this was that he was a married man and went through great lengths to make sure that no one could easily find out. On Facebook, he listed his name as '', so "Dathan" backwards, and uses his middle name, "Christopher", as his last name. Apparently, Ph.D. students often use their first and middle name on Facebook for privacy purposes. But it doesn't explain why he told Deevena his last name was L***** when his real last name was F*******. The former was actually his wife's last name.
From his and his wife's Facebook page, which was mostly private except for a few photos, it was obvious that they were very much in love and had known each other for a long time. They had each other in their profile and cover photos. The wife's family seemed to really love Chris/Dathan too. It was actually crazy to see how much her family seemed to adore him while I saw him as this bipolar, manipulative man with borderline emotionally-abusive tendencies. And I thought this waaaaay before I found out he was a liar.
So several things make this revelation even worse. First, the signs were always there. Big, red and bright flags have displayed itself from the beginning of this "relationship". Deevena is an adult, so I can't tell her what to do. I can only tell her my opinions, which are all based on the things she told me. According to her, Chris made her really happy. He was affectionate and affirmative. They had fun with each other. Yet, within days, hours even, he'd say something to hurt her feelings. His words were always consistent. There was never a week when things were consistently good and this was from the beginning. There's a lot more heinous stuff that happened within this relationship that I don't really feel like speaking on. Ultimately, it is sad to see my friend keep falling for men that, in my opinion, don't really provide much of anything besides dick.
But really, I'm mostly tired of it all. The same thing happened with Corey where she was always in emotional distress about the things he did and didn't do and it all seemed pointless because no matter what he did, she was going to stay with him. What's the point of complaining? What's the point of me wasting my breath? We kept having the same conversations over and over again.
This entire time, I thought Corey just didn't like her enough. But recently, he came to the conclusion that, in fact, he loved her but didn't know how to deal with those emotions so he acted like an asshole instead. Corey and Deev are both interesting case studies on how humans don't make any sense. But this new realization and his proceeding crisis, has caused a lot of other issues in her life. I don't really want to go into that either. But it does sort of explain the issues she's having with Chris.
Really, I'm just frustrated with her right now because she was supposed to confront him the day after we found out this information and instead, had sex with him and wavered about cutting him off. The sex, in my opinion, was part of his manipulation tactics and she's falling for it. He admitted to everything, yet it was not enough for Deev to realize that she deserved way better than that. Yesterday night, she said she was just going to break it off on the phone because she wasn't strong enough to do it person. Tonight, she's considering not ending things anytime soon. If she really decides to do that, I'm going to finally put my foot down, show her some tough love, and tell her that I don't want to hear about Chris anymore then.
I feel bad even typing that to be honest. I really want to make sure she's okay. But she even said last night that she was driven to break up with Chris more so by the fact that Corey is hurt by it, and not because she's hurting herself. I'm not sure whether to call that strength or cowardice. There's no way I can imagine subjecting myself to emotional pain like that for no benefit. But so many people get into abusive relationships like this all the time. Anyway, I'm hoping this tough love tactic actually works. I'm hoping I have the ovaries to follow through with it. I hope it doesn't even have to come down to this.
In other boy news, I went to a Halloween party last weekend and finally made out with a guy after a five-month hiatus from being intimate with anyone. Time-wise, it actually doesn't feel like its been THAT long. Mentally and physically, I've been suffering. I think I needed that affirmation that I'm still attractive and I got it at that Halloween party. It was actually the funnest drinking night I've had in a long time. Frankly, the bars in this town suck for true clubbing and the people I'm surrounded by aren't that fun. All my closest friends were gone that weekend so I partied with a different group of people on Saturday. I've been getting close to this guy named Lucas. He's Brazilian, a huge flirt, but he is great at making people feel included and getting the party started.
He invited me to the party but he didn't know the people who were hosting so he wanted to go squad-deep. It was me, and two other girls, gorgeous women who he has definitely fucked at some point in time, at his house for a pre-game before we crashed the party. I dressed in a really lame Red Riding Hood costume. I wore a black velvet dress, boots, and the red hood of a three-piece costume I spent $60 on at Spirit. One girl had on a sexy police officer costume. The other girl was wearing a normal orange tank and black shorts with a unicorn horn and tail. Lucas had a Playboy Bunny thing going on. We pulled up at the house, headlights blinding the people outside playing drinking games, and walked out of the car and into the house, holding drinks. My friend, who was already in the party, told me that we made a great entrance. I was beaming.
The girls stole the aux cord and started playing their own upbeat music. We got friendly with the hosts of the party and their friends. A lot of it is a blur as I actually got reeeeally drunk to the point of throwing up in the bathroom at the house. I remember dancing with a bunch of people. Guys coming up to dance with me. Alcohol was always being offered to me and I gladly obliged. I just reallly appreciated feeling desired and cool. The night before, I went to the Halloween party that my company's young professionals group hosted and I felt so lame and unwanted there. No one seemed to want to talk to me for longer than they had to except for a few people. And there was nothing to do except sit around and talk. The bar was on the emptier side because not a lot of people showed up for the Halloween party and a good portion of Melbourne's population was at the local university's homecoming festival. Anyway, the point I'm making is that Friday night had me feeling really bad about myself to the point that when Lucas invited me out, I really considered not going because I was officially done with the white folks of Melbourne. Somehow, I convinced myself that this was going to be better because it would be a house party, and house parties are objectively always better. And I was right.
I got friendly with a guy in a kangaroo jumpsuit. I honestly don't know how I feel about him attraction-wise. Like, if I was in a sober setting, would I have still found him cute enough to make out with? He was definitely one of the cuter ones at the party that night and he was paying attention to me and that's all I needed. We went into this weird half-room with a washer and dryer, a futon, and some banner on the wall. That's really all I remember about that room besides mashing that guy's face and rolling around on that futon. Someone knocked on the door and we left the room. I remember telling whoever knocked that we were just admiring the washer and dryer because I thought that would be funny for some reason. He asked if I'd want to go with him and I said "nahh" because I was on my period. Most of all, I didn't want to navigate my way home from some random guy's house. Later, I realized he was hosting a bunch of people at his place and I definitely did not want to make the walk out the door with a bunch of people I don't really know. We called our ubers home and decided to go back into that room to make out some more until they arrived. If I was a white person, I'd be blushing right now. I sort of hope to never seem him again because I'm awkward as hell and I don't know what I'd do if I saw him again. I think the chance of that is really slim because we're in totally different friend groups. But it was the type of night I hope to have every night that I drink and he was a cool person to party with.
I'm still low-key recovering from last week. I was invited to go out tonight, the actual night of Halloween and I was simply too tired. Most importantly, my brother needed help sprucing up is college application and there was no way I could juggle drinking, getting home on time, and staying awake to help him. Not to mention, we all had work tomorrow. So I'm saving my liver for Friday and Saturday. I need to figure out another costume by then.
Anyway, good night!
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