ST. VALENTINE'S DAY TEARS

It is always hard when we are rejected, and it’s not always in the love scene.  It could be on the job or at home.  Your ideas or feelings being dismissed or ignored by superiors, colleagues, or even you own family members.  However, being rejected by your girlfriend, boyfriend, spouse, or significant other, is especially hard.  In these relationships, you probably have given of yourself totally and rejection is very painful.  Wasn’t I man enough for her?  Wasn’t I pretty enough for him?  Being rejected cuts deep, down to your very soul and can have you questioning your self-worth.  A St. Valentine’s Day rejection, with everybody else in love, is the kiss of death.

You may be saying, not you Mr. FOG, this could not have happened to you; but yes.  And it happened again this Valentine’s Day 2013.  A time or two in the past, I have been the both the one doing the rejecting and the one being rejected.  Strangely, both are difficult experiences, but in different ways.  For sure being rejected is far worse, especially if you are too blind and don’t see it coming.

Typical responses, and usually depending on one’s ego and maturity, can range from lashing out at a former lover, to wallowing in self-pity.  “Well, I hope she rots in Hell is a common reaction”.  For some, revenge, real or imagined, can be very satisfying.  And still for others, perhaps a lot of crying and a little drinking is the way to go.  FOG generally goes for the last option with a bit of wishful revenge.

Seeking comfort, often with an old flame to prove that you still got it can be very good ego- booster, but there are perils.  If an old flame is not around, finding a substitute may do the trick.  Try going to a Dixie Diva dive bar like the one his Lordship and FOG saw in New Orleans.  You may find that special someone for the night in a dark, intimate, friendly little place just off Bourbon Street, where a gentleman can buy a lady a drink.  You drink, you talk, she listens and sympathizes and if the chemistry is right, maybe something more meaningful follows.  The liquor helps to make the decision easier.  Not to bested, a jilted woman, especially a mature one, may do something similar and prowl the bars like a hungry cougar looking for a younger man to prove that she still has what it takes.

Hattie a fun-loving 76 year old has been dating younger men
for 20 years.  I wonder what her husband says about this?

A sad country song that almost breaks your heart and some liquor, but not too much liquor, can help me ease the pain.  But mostly it takes time to make the hurt go away.  Here is the sad country song link I cried to when I was dumped in 1999.  Find your own booze, pour yourself a drink and listen to the song.  And if you are strong enough and ready to also remember the last time you were rejected in love, listen to my last break-up song, while I tell you the rest of my story.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39UvGoHSHew    (Skip the advertisement)  "Tonight the Heartache's on Me" is a song by the Dixie Chicks, and the final single from their 1998 album Wide Open Spaces. It was released in May 1999.

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FOG had long suspected infidelity, unexplained absences, not knowing where she was, and her caresses, while still warm, were not as ardent or as frequent as before.  Mr. FOG rationalized; that the ardor of our love is maturing to something much better;  we are two free spirits, give her room, don’t try to hold on to her too much, since it may only drive her away, etc..

But it was a neighbor’s whisper that pushed FOG over the edge.  She had been seen by others leaving our house and going down the alley, toward the garage apartment that FOG could see from his yard.  At first, trusting FOG thought, it is fine, she takes the alley as a short-cut cut, perhaps she is just talking a long walk or visiting Candy on the next street over.  However the absences became longer and more frequent.  What do I do, thought FOG; confront the “alleged” jezebel, or just wait and see.  Not wanting to lose her, or perhaps not wanting to know the truth, FOG went with “wait and see” approach and said nothing for several weeks.

The day before Valentine’s Day 2013, FOG finally asked a neighbor, a long time resident of the neighborhood, about the strange man living in the garage apartment.  FOG had only seen him a time or two from a distance.  He was dressed all in black, in a Goth Johnny Cash look, and was practicing with a whip in the yard.  FOG, a man who does odd things himself, knows odd, and this whip thing is really odd.  According to the neighbor, the Johnny Cash wanna be, was on disability and was on drugs most of the time.  Why would she pick a man on disability, on drugs, living in a shoddy garage apartment, and likes to crack a whip for hours?  Does she have a Marquis de Sade fetish, I knew nothing about?  How does a man on disability pay for recreational drugs?.  Does a government funded disability pay that well that one can afford both drugs and living expenses?.  How can FOG get on disability? And if so, does FOG also get a free Obama phone—really a Clinton/Bush phone-- since the program originated in the late 1990's.  http://obamaphone.net/

So many unanswered questions.

Finally on Valentine’s Day , when it was obvious that my loved one was not coming home for our planned St. Valentine’s Day dinner; FOG, on a sudden impulse, decided to confront his allegedly unfaithful lover and her paramour.  He had to know the truth; and best to catch them in the act, so that there can be no more excuses or any more lies.  Just be a man about it and go over there unannounced.  He walked down the alley, and hesitated, but only for a moment before going up the stairs to the garage apartment.  He heard music, but fortunately nothing else.

A knock on the door, produced Marcus.  True, Marcus was younger by far, but he certainly was a not a “catch”, by any means.  Love is not only blind, but stupid as well.  What a waste of a life, thought FOG.  So young and living a life in drug stupor.  He had bad teeth, and was holding an oddly shaped plate with something that looked like marijuana, and a lot of it.  Perhaps it was medicinal, marijuana given his disability, but he did not look too disabled.  Could the bad teeth be a sign of crystal meth use, not just poor dental hygiene??  Could he be both a user and dealer of both marijuana and hard drugs and this is way he makes a living?

The conversation did not start off well.  FOG explained that his cat had not been home for several days and he wanted to make sure she was OK.  FOG calmly asked a simple and direct question “Have you seen my cat?”  A befuddled Marcus in a semi-drug induced daze at first pleaded ignorance to any cat; and then finally said Oh, yeah that tortoise shell colored cat.  How many cats does he have in this place thought FOG?  FOG calmly responded yes, she’s the one with my telephone number on her collar tag.  Marcus explained that he had seen both the collar tag and number but had not thought to call the number to make sure it was OK for him to keep the cat.  The cat, ignoring all of this seemed happy enough, sleeping comfortably in the messy living room that apparently has not been cleaned in months, and perhaps years.

FOG seeing that they might have a good thing going on, backtracked, saying that he only wanted the cat’s happiness and was making sure she was OK.  Apparently FOG’s cat has been shacking up, off and on, with Marcus for weeks.  At first, it was little short visits, and then finally she moves in for good, missing our special St. Valentine’s Day dinner.  It was hard, seeing her asleep in this strange house, but Mr. FOG accepted the rejection as gracefully as one could.  What could he do?  Take the cat home for their Valentines Day dinner just to have her sneak back to Marcus later?    He did not want to hold her prisoner.

Marcus said that the reason she came over, was the nice soft cat food he feeds her.  But FOG knew there was more to it.  The cat had not left FOG because this younger, supposedly disabled, drug addicted man was a better man or had the soft cat food.  Alone in life, he gave Ugly/Pretty cat what she needed, attention and love.    Perhaps also Ugly/Pretty Cat, now called Hashish, gives Marcus the unconditional love he also needs.  FOG travels and is gone a lot and the cat was searching for what she wanted the most.  Perhaps, it is better this way, at least for now.  Ugly/Pretty cat is happy, Marcus is content, and FOG has his booze, sad Country Western songs, and memories. 

Let FOG’s St. Valentine’s Day rejection be a lesson.  Give your loved ones what they need.  It is not about your sexual prowess or beauty.  While these are good things to have in your love arsenal, often it is about the affection and attention we give one another and the consistency with which it is shown.



Cat-nip Stupor

 Not a quitter, FOG will try to win Ugly/Pretty cat back this summer, by planting catnip in his garden.  If the cat wants drugs, FOG is willing to be her supplier.  Plus giving her affection and attention, of course