Where’s Georgia? (A True Love Story)

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“With the possible exception of your birth mother, no woman will ever love you for what you are. You are just her current stepping stone till she can find someone better.” ~  Advocatus Diaboli (aka “Dissention”)

“I pity the fool who falls in love with you.” ~  Cee-Lo (“Fuck You”)

Nearly three years ago, I reduced myself to a mode of retardation. Where did it come from, you may ask?

I fell in love for the first time in my adult life.

Being 27 years of age at the time, I was just blinded by her beauty and the possibility of sex. I knew better, innately. I did not stick to my guns and aforementioned, I was blinded by her beauty and the possibility of sex.

I knew Georgia, a Latin girl from Texas, for four years before I fell for her. She grew on me, despite the way she had presented herself: her freakiness and insatiable sexual appetite. Upon meeting her at first, I knew she got around and shamelessly. She would occasionally find a boyfriend who became increasingly jealous of her desire for chocolate men and would go at no ends to try and tame her wild, fiery ass. Never would it work in their favor, regardless of how threatened by her sexuality they were. Upon my confession to her that I was falling for her, something told me that the connection would have been destined to fail. Because as experienced as I am, I know that nothing lasts forever. The major factor lied within her cravings for attention from other men. She told me up front that she had tunnel vision and she wants to have her cake and eat it, too. I’ve learned that experience is more valuable than words.

Spring of 2011, everything was going better than I had expected. She always thought of me as “sexy” and liked my insight on life. It was, however, a long distance relationship. We would have spent hours on the phone conversing and having phone sex. Our lengthiest one lasted for five hours, believe it or not. She would call me as soon as she left her job and she would be quick to throw other men under the bus. Most of them were the studs who she sexually desired (admitting that dick was all they really had to offer her as they lacked stability and the passivity of allowing her to have her way). I was in for a rude awakening and knew early on that what she really wants is not what she said. Though her biggest worry was that she would die single, she wanted to world at her feet. Like an idiot, I gave her that. But it did not last. You had better belief that when I moved on, it hurt her more than it did me.

As time passed by, she would become fickle and occasionally angry with me whenever I pointed out certain flaws of hers and the men she would pursue over me. We had both planned that I pay her a visit on Christmas of 2011 and though it was planned for months, the efforts were ruined. Aside from the fact that long-distant relationships were quirky, I remained loyal. She did not.

She chased after a stud who lived in the same city as she. She was obsessively on his radar for a long time and they hooked up. Though she threw his dumb ass under the bus to me amid telephone conversations (saying the guy has mental issues, a cracked skull from an angry ex and is an unemployed loser in his late 30s with a prison record, living with his grandmother), he would act worse than a female and became jealous of all of her contact with other men. She stayed with him for months because, according to her, the sex was so damned good! On her social networking profiles, she enjoyed rubbing in the faces of men, even those who she claimed she would like to have married – guys who she really does not respect. Me being one of them! Two months before our agreed-upon holiday rendezvous. She was even raunchier than her male counterparts as it pertained to status updates on how great the sex is. But like most females, she confused great sex with love to the point to where she had no idea he was gaming her ass. I grew sick of her parading her loser in front of other losers while complaining about the drama and tears it had given her. Slowly but surely, I moved on. Then, she admits “I have to cut him loose. It’s hard, though. Please, don’t give up on me!”

Though she was stuck on her current stud who evidentially dicked her down so much, she was occasionally feeling a sense of guilt for how she placed me on the backburner. Funny thing is, irony is a bitch, just as karma. The day I would have taken a flight to see her is the same exact day he gamed her for the final time. Only then, she realized what everyone else knew. He had stolen money from her the day before Christmas Eve (plus the fact that she has a daughter, which means he had stolen from her, as well). That same exact day, I met a woman who lived nearby who helped me forget about Georgia and somehow, I turned into a stud within several weeks due to my countless romps with the other woman.

Georgia knew what she had when I was loyal to her, Yet, temporary gratification ruined it. As a result, she grew to dislike me due to my going back to my original state of being. She found out about the new females in my life and became increasingly hostile and jealous – especially if they were European white females, which I briefly mentioned before here. This turns into her trying her hardest to rub her other sexual escapades in my face to make me jealous. Her lack of success only escalated her anger and hatred for me. I would no longer allow my time to waste due to her greed and narcissism (especially wanting me to follow a list of rules she could not follow). A purposeful rift grew between us.

I did come to realize only months later that there are worse females than Georgia around. Upon this disturbing discovery, this did not cause me to want to take Georgia back whatsoever. One day, she asks me to pay her bills and I facetiously asked “Where’s your sugar daddy at?” And yes, she had a few of those whom she had no sexual interest in. “Ask him to pay it.” She angrily replied that she was done with me. My final text back to her stated “Thank you for making me who I am today.”

She realized how good I was to her (or how big of a fucking retard I was). By then, it was too late. I had moved on. Her being full of life mysteriously caused her to not look the same as she had even two years ago. It could have been the headaches bestowed upon men that she had caused. Maybe it was the alcohol or the drugs. This is a prime example of how quick beauty fades away… She is just not beautiful anymore…

I do regret that we fell in love; I know we’d probably never fell out if we had remained friends. Then, it would not have been so bad.

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