The Tangled Webs We Weave - Part VII

I guess it's ritual now, every Sunday night there is a little rave-party with my name on it going on down in the Flats. I am the entertainment.

Bookbag is not good. He tells me he is "together" with his girlfriend. He's had a bad history with marraige, so he's not looking to do that again. He recently thought about ending the relationship but decided against it because of the bad history and he doesn't want to give up on another one. He says she's young (26) and sometimes handles things like a younger person.

Ooooooh yeah. She has no clue. She says things in front of me she probably shouldn't be saying, in part because she's drunk, in part because I make her feel comfortable talking to me, in part because I also make her nervous. She knows I'm moving in on her man and am quite capable of taking him, I see it in the way she behaves when I'm around. Well, I took what she said, what he said and put it with what I already know and this is what I've discovered:

Of course Bookbag loves her, right now she's his meal ticket. He can't leave her because he has no way to support himself; I don't know that he would even have a place to go. If he's telling me the truth, he's also got it in his head that settling for what he has is more important than making an already bad track record look worse. He's going to stick this out partly because he wants to but mostly because he has to.

My mother did that once; stayed in a dysfunctional relationship with a man who beat us both for ten years because she didn't like the idea of chalking up two divorces. Real smart. My stepfather finally filed for divorce when he got himself a girlfriend.

And here's Bookbag gonna get fucked too. Big-time.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA...poor Bookbag, I've got his number and hers.

Marrying him is important to her and his inability to go along with that annoys her enough she has no problem making it public. Bookbag was adamant to me about not getting married again, having done it twice and ending badly, and I believe him. She's eventually gonna get tired of being the girlfriend and she's gonna push him to put a ring on her finger, it's already starting to happen. He might even get an ultimatum. O.U.C.H.

Or he might get trapped, and that's worse. One of our fellow regulars at the Sunday night club/rave brought her boyfriend's dog to the party last night. I happened to be standing by the girlfriend and made the comment "Great. I'm such a dog person, I won't be able to pay attention to the hot guys anymore because I'll be too busy playing with the dog. This happens every time."

She laughed. "Oh yeah, puppies and babies. I just get all giggly over them."

"Oh, okay, for me it's just the dogs, but it's still retarded."

Laughs again. "Oh, I'm like that with babies, too. I'm starting to get a little older and that stuff is starting to kick in, ya know, haha."

Yeah, I know all about that. So does my birth control. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

And wait till Bookbag finds out. He seems so thrilled about the possibility of marraige, I'm sure he's gonna love this....

He better be careful, because as soon as she figures out she's gonna lose him, she could end up pregnant, because women are manipulative like that. If I haven't given up on him by then, I sure as fuck will when that happens....

I still don't know what he's thinking of me and hopefully that part will come out next. I'm not even sure I can call him a friend, really. Can we be friends with this thing hanging over our heads? How long until it's my turn to get taken advantage of, will I be a friend then?

Speaking of friends, it seems the smartest idea for me would be to stop going Sunday nights, but I can't. I'm making new friends there all the time, and the people with whom I was at acquaintance-level with before this started, I am getting closer and closer to. We spend every Sunday night together now, and we already did adore each other, but now we're becoming closer simply by location. I can't lose that, I love that, it's what makes my life so damned important. I can't just stop because of Bookbag.