I was just struck by how shitty I was to MP in our relationship. I laugh. I guess it isn't funny. I'm laughing because he thinks I'm controlling and "Type A" and whatever else. I think of my other relationships and laugh. "Type A", god, still laughing. How can a depressive be Type A? Ambition is the first word in the definition. I haven't worked in a year and I live with my mom. Clearly, ambitious. Aggressive? Impatient? I'll give him those. Business-like, controlling, highly-competitive, pre-occupied with his or her status, it just describes everything that I am so far from. I mean if this is Type A I would be Z, B is not far enough from it. When you think business professional you think- Lauren. It's your first thought, I know it is. Time-conscious? Yes, it has nothing to do with deadlines and everything to do with respect. It must have been hard for him to be in a relationship with a stranger. Shit, I've known strangers better.
To his credit, I was a dick. But to my own, he let me. Had I ever treated Kyle like that he would've left my ass so fast my head would have spun. He did once. I yelled at him. He pretty much left me on the spot. Well, after I got home from work he kicked me out. He took me back the next day, but boy, that draws a line in the sand. Needless to say it never happened again, the yelling, not the breaking up. Not that I'm a bad person, or that people who treat other people shitty are bad people, but sometimes when you respond shittily and the other person doesn't stop you, you drive it on home. Then the next time you push it a little further. This goes on until you have no more respect for the person and your shittiness stems from that.
The trick is you have to nip it in the bud the first go round. MP started getting a little bit of a backbone, but it was too late. Plus, I could tell his heart wasn't in it. I'm like I dog. I can smell fear.
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