Who does that bastard think he is leaving me at the altar, that no good sack of shit? My dad is probably right saying that it would never have worked out for us as were like oil and water forced to stay separate from each other. He was clearly bad news, but I just couldn’t resist, mainly because I knew that he could get any girl and I wanted that to be me. I met him in the middle of my menstrual cycle and at that time I usually am usually not looking for a nice-guy that is honest, or trustworthy, and respectful, as basically my only desire is to be freed from the pressure of being a good girl.
He was exciting and different and we did things that were forbidden, but I should have listened to my mother and sought out a man that was the marrying kind and then if I got board with him, I could have always had affairs. He was never going to change and I should know better and stop repeating the same patterns and putting people in roles that they don’t belong in. If I ever did succeed in changing him, then he would not have been the man that I was attracted to. He got what he wanted from me as I told him that I wasn’t going all the way unless he put a ring on my finger and now all I want is to make him choke on that ring.
Written for Fandango’s Flash Fiction Challenge #76.