I am Medusa

I have many abilities. I can rebuild an engine, milk a goat and spray a car. Most of these have had limited use over the years but the one skill I have that continues in its development is my ability to have grown men too scared to look me in the eye.

I have considered the obvious. Spot on the chin, mono brow, halitosis - but none seem to quite fit the bill. This week the thunderbolt hit.

I keep quiet. I think that being non demanding, being cool with behaviour that frankly, is not cool means that I am cool. I think that if I prove I have no needs, no expectations and no demands then I must be a really nice person. So nice in fact, there have been times that I thought I have emotional bulemia.

Yet I do not think their behaviour is okay, I think it sucks. Yet so convinced that if I say anything the inevitable will happen, the relationship will end that I keep silent. All the little games, the 24 hours to respond to a text yet they call you within 2 if you don't respond to theirs. The shit behaviour they pre-empt by saying "Do you think I am a lazy lover?" The answer to that one is that if you have to ask, you already know the answer. And so it goes on.

So I accept the behaviour and they feel great. I offer a very large pass that say's take the piss.

Yet I clock it all. And when the time comes I shoot from the hip in the kind of character assassination that will hurt. It hurts because it is all too often deadly accurate and I gave no warning. Then they feel shit.

The ex husband would never argue with me. He controlled any disharmony with sulking. If I tried to say that I wasn't happy about something he simply refused to speak for days on end. Then I would know that it simply wasn't worth it. I suspect this is where I learned to keep my mouth shut and clock it all. I once said "But I didn't say anything that wasn't true'

"Exactly" he said "That's why it hurt"

So I create my own death. The men I care about (I am not including ex marital relationships) are the ones that I destroy relationships with through my own behaviour. I offer no honesty, I allow myself to be fucked around and then become indignant at the injustice of it all. When I then demand some honesty from them, I fire a bullet. Then they cannot look me in the face.

Tis ironic that I demand honesty and yet the only honesty I ever give is my views on them.

Perhaps I do men an injustice. Perhaps if I had boundaries, then I would only meet the kind of men that respect them.

Seems that I am not that bright after all.